


And Starward Drifts the Stricken World

by SapphireSmoke



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blackcest, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Not Beta Read, Parent/Child Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireSmoke/pseuds/SapphireSmoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of 'toujours pur' drabbles; further explanation inside. Prompts are accepted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

  


This fic contains all of the drabbles I have done focusing on the Black family and its surrounding marital extensions (ie. Malfoy, Lestrange). All of these stories include incest, some depict sex between minors or sex between an adult and a minor, while a few others include rape or dubious consent. Please exercise caution when reading, as some of these things may be triggering. 

|x|

These characters are not mine. They belong to the lovely J.K. Rowling, who would probably need years of therapy if she ever saw what we make them do on a regular basis.

|x|

ø THIS FIC IS RATED M FOR MATURE ø  
If you are not a mature individual, I suggest you go back to playing Pokémon before I end up scarring you for life. To those of you who gave up on the dream of catching them all, please note that while this fic is rated M, the ratings vary from drabble to drabble.

|x|

_Each chapter is a standalone piece of short fiction and should be read as such._  
Don’t try to make sense of the chaos. Really. Just… don’t.

|x|

All of these drabbles are unbeta’d, so unfortunately that means I can’t blame the mistakes on someone else. As they were originally comment!fic or tumblr ask box prompts, I didn’t take them seriously enough to warrant a beta. I still don’t, actually; take them seriously. They’re just something that cured my boredom for an hour.

|x|

Most of these drabbles are centered around Bellatrix/Narcissa, as they tend to star in a large percentage of my perverted little fantasies. However if I am prompted I will expand my horizons and thus far, Lucius/Draco, Bellatrix/Draco, Bellatrix/Andromeda, Narcissa/Andromeda, and Druella/Narcissa are also included.

|x|

This fic will most likely never be marked as completed. This fic will never have a steady update rate. This fic appreciates reviews, story alerts, and faves.  
_Subtle, I know._

|x|

If you wish to prompt me, please do so through my tumblr ask box: **obsessionisthenewblack**. The side panel will announce whether I am accepting prompts at that time, or if my inbox is so overrun that I may explode. I don’t fill prompts on a schedule or deadline, only when I feel like it, so it could be a bit of a wait until yours is answered. However I do them in order received and promise I will get around to them all eventually. Patience is key. Well, either that or you can beat me into submission with bamboo sticks. Your choice.

|x|

ø ACCEPTED CHARACTERS FOR PROMPTS ø  
_feel free to mix and match these to create twosomes, threesomes, or foursomes  
\- any more than that would be a clusterfuck -_

Bellatrix Black (Lestrange)  
Andromeda Black (Tonks)  
Narcissa Black (Malfoy)  
Cygnus Black III  
Druella Rosier (Black)  
Sirius Black  
Regulus Black  
Walburga Black  
Orion Black  
Rodolphus Lestrange  
Rabastan Lestrange  
Lucius Malfoy  
Draco Malfoy  
Astoria Greengrass (Malfoy)  
Scorpius Malfoy

|x|

ø THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE ø  
_things that squick me and/or things I just don’t feel like freaking doing_

Scat. Genital Torture. Tentacles. Sex With Animals. MPreg. Genderfuck. Furries. Songfic. Badfic. Crackfic. Wingfic. Extensions to previous drabbles. Crossovers. 

|x|

ANYTHING ELSE IS FAIR GAME  
_well, unless it’s something so disastrously fucked up that even I haven’t heard of it, in which case I applaud your imagination. I make no promises that it’s doable; however I will let you know either way._

By the way, if you really managed to read this entire intro you get a cookie. Also, I love you.


	2. No One Better Suited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bellatrix/narcissa, public submission  
> Rating: m  
> For: dexstarr  
> Where: deatheatercest drabblethon on livejournal

Her hand snaked through her hair, forcing her to her knees despite her protests. They were nothing more than pointless babble; futile pleadings that would once again be ignored. There was never an option; it was only obey or be tossed aside. If she didn't then her sister would easily find a new toy to play with and Narcissa didn't think she could handle witnessing that; someone else tasting what should only be hers. But she had to try, for this seemed far too risky.

Narcissa's cheeks burned with embarrassment as her knees smacked against the cool marble flooring, reminding her once again that she was nothing more than a willing slave. It wasn't always like this; sometimes they were gentle with each other in the privacy of their own homes… but not now, not tonight. Tonight Bellatrix commanded obedience and quick release, shushing her protests automatically. "Shhh, pet," she purred, running her fingers through her sister's hair possessively. "Just do what you're told. You know how I hate it when you ramble senselessly."

They weren't senseless rambles; they were legitimate fears. Party goers were heard clearly in the parlor, her husband and son amongst them, celebrating the holidays. The two sisters were in the hallway over, Bellatrix pressed up against the wall as she held Narcissa a mere half a foot from the apex between her thighs, and if someone were to come around the corner they would surely be caught. Narcissa tried to plead; there were bedrooms after all, but Bellatrix just hushed her again impatiently, gripping her hair so tightly it felt like it would surely be ripped out before forcing her face between her thighs.

There were no options. There never were.

"Fuck me, Cissy. Or I'll find someone else better suited," she told her harshly. So Narcissa obeyed, as always. _Someone better suited_. There was no one else better suited, not even Bellatrix's own husband. Only she could make her sister cry out obscenities and plead for release. Only she could make her eyes glaze over and touch the heaven she would never be welcomed into come death. Only _she_ treated her sister like the goddess that she was.

Bellatrix groaned softly as Narcissa pleased her with her mouth; she bucked her hips against her face, swore relentlessly, and raked her jagged nails along her scalp as her release drew closer. Bellatrix's head was banging against the wall, her bosom heaving, and Narcissa couldn't help the pride that welled up in her for it. Only she could do this to her. _Only her_. And when Bellatrix came on her face, gasping her name into the emptiness of the hallway as she held onto her, Narcissa smiled.

But she was suddenly dragged to her feet roughly, and a slap to her face was delivered that left her cheek stinging. "What have I told you?" Lucius' angry voice shouted before shoving her back. Narcissa held her cheek, mouth agape. He knew, he had always known, but he had never seen until now.

"Now, now Lucius, green doesn't suit you," Bellatrix said with a chuckle as she fixed her dress, cocking her head to the side as she peered at him. There was a noticeable pause before she took two steps towards the man until her fingers were around his throat, her lips pressed to his ear before she sneered, "And if you dare touch my sister again, I'll rip off your balls and use them as the decoration on the tree."

Lucius was thrown back heavily into the wall, forgotten instantly. Bellatrix turned to Narcissa and leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips as her thumb stroked her stinging cheek protectively. "Happy Christmas, Cissy."

Narcissa may be a willing slave, but Bellatrix had always known how to treat those most loyal to her.

\- FIN -


	3. The Taste of Narcissism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: lucius/draco, (nothing specified)  
> Rating: m  
> For: wondertwinc  
> Where: tumblr

Draco was the perfect embodiment of a pureblooded son. He was a beautiful boy; tall and strong like his father with features that mirrored his mother. He had an incredible amount of dignity, holding himself with honor and grace whilst doing what was expected of him. He was good at that, his boy; doing what was expected of him. Because of his father's encouragement, Draco was now one of the top students in his year, and Lucius couldn't have been prouder. Though whether those grades were due to merit or bribery, Lucius did not know nor care. It was merely the results that mattered, not the means; he had taught that very philosophy to Draco in this very room when he was only six years old.

Now, this room taught very different things to his son.

Lucius couldn't exactly remember when or how this all started, though he's liable to blame a heavy amount of ale and his wife, for she cared nothing of pleasuring him ever since her damned sister came back from Azkaban. Narcissa had always had quite the unhealthy infatuation and it enraged him so; to come second best to filth like Bellatrix. But it was of no matter in the long run, not really. Narcissa was never what Lucius truly wanted in life; she was merely part of the charade.

Lucius was more than aware about his narcissism problem; he thought himself to be a rather gorgeous specimen of the male species and he spent more time than any woman in front of the mirror, making himself look just so. Appearances made the man, after all. It was something he prided above all else, and why shouldn't he? But Lucius didn't realize how deep his own infatuation with himself went; how dangerous and alluring, how sick and greedy it all truly was… at least, not at first.

And then he took to fucking his own son.

Draco, always the eager boy when it came to pleasing his father, never questioned it. Perhaps he had a bit of a narcissism complex himself. It was easy to see themselves reflected in each other's eyes. Though most of Draco's facial features clearly resembled those of his mother, everything else about the boy was all Lucius' genes. He was, quite honestly, the most stunning creature Lucius had ever set eyes on and he quickly became infatuated with the feeling of fucking something that was part _him._

Draco was, after all, the perfect son; and nothing but perfection came from someone as grand as Lucius Malfoy.

It was delicious, the way his son would cry out when he filled him; he was tighter than any woman Lucius had ever been with, even after all these years. It was arousing, the way he would gasp "Father" after the first thrust; something that should have made Lucius feel dirty, yet instead made him feel rather powerful. It was mesmerizing, the way Draco would move beneath him; arse held high as he pushed against his father's hips, encouraging to go deeper, harder, faster. And it was perfection; the way Draco would pump his cock in need whilst Lucius spilt his seed inside of him, the boy desperate to get off right after his father had.

Because Lucius would always come first – those that are beautiful _always_ came first – and Draco, unfortunately, was and would only ever be half the man that his father was.

\- FIN -


	4. Flecks of Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bellatrix/narcissa, eyes  
> Rating: g  
> For: i-require-your-pimpcane  
> Where: tumblr

All of Narcissa's life she had heard the whispers, the questions; rumors that her eldest sister tried to assure her had no bearing on anything. But it was bound to be scrutinized; a blonde Black, no one had ever heard of such a thing. The Black family was known for their dark beauty; dark eyes, dark hair. Bellatrix and Andromeda would look practically identical, if not for the slightly lighter shade of brown Andromeda had, and the softness that her eyes held when she smiled at you.

It made Narcissa feel ashamed; to be the topic of such idle gossip amongst the elitists. Many were sure their mother had strayed from her marriage, but Druella denied the nasty rumors. Their father never said much on the matter, which made Narcissa fearful that even he thought it to be true. It was no secret that she was his least favorite daughter; he was always doting on Bellatrix and Andromeda and conveniently leaving Narcissa to her own devices. It made Narcissa feel rather alone; less like herself, less like she was a part of a family that to her, meant the world.

Bellatrix found her crying in her bedroom one night; the night she had debated running away. She thought it was obvious she didn't belong there, but Bellatrix seemed to think otherwise. She took her hand, bringing her to the mirror that stood atop her vanity and asked what she saw. Narcissa replied, tearfully, that she saw nothing, because that was how she felt; abandoned, worthless. If she wasn't a Black, she didn't who she was anymore. She wasn't worth _anything_ anymore.

"Look at our eyes," Bellatrix instructed her, pressing her breasts against her back as she held her forearms in a gesture meant to comfort, but only seemed to feel rather possessive. That was her sister's nature though. He sister's touch filled her with warmth though and so Narcissa looked, trying to see what Bellatrix saw. After a moment she shrugged rather lifelessly.

"They're brown."

"With flecks of gold," Bellatrix pointed out purposefully. "Like father; like all of the Blacks. Aunt Walburga told me once that was the indicator of our status; our bloodline. The gold indicates our wealth. Sirius and Regulus have the same color, haven't you noticed?"

Narcissa shook her head.

"It doesn't matter what color your hair is, Cissy; that doesn't define who you are. It's our eyes; it's always been our eyes. Everyone who says stuff about it, they're just jealous prats. They're jealous that you're the most breathtaking pureblood the world has ever seen. You're _beautiful_ , Narcissa; that's all it is. So sod them and their jealousy, yeah? Forget about it."

Narcissa sighed softly, looking at herself in the mirror. She didn't look very beautiful to her. She could see every flaw that adorned her body, yet when she turned her eyes towards her sister, it was she who looked to be perfection.

"You're the beautiful one," Narcissa whispered sadly. "Not me."

Bellatrix brushed the hair off of the back of Narcissa's neck, their identical eyes connecting in the reflection of the mirror as she slowly leaned in. "You're the most beautiful girl in the world," Bellatrix told her softly before her lips connected with her skin. Narcissa's eyes fluttered closed, feeling a strange heat rise up through her body as her heart pounded in her chest. "To me."

"Really?" Narcissa asked, her voice small; hopefully, yet partly disbelieving. She opened her eyes and turned her head so she could look at her sister, needing to see the truth on her face. She found it rather instantly as Bellatrix smiled at her, cupping her cheek with her palm.

"Really."

\- FIN -


	5. When Love Lost Its Meaning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bellatrix/narcissa, the night bellatrix gets her dark mark  
> Rating: g  
> For: anonymous  
> Where: tumblr

"Does it hurt?"

"I'm _fine_ ," Bellatrix hissed, holding onto her left forearm so tightly that her nails pieced the skin. Narcissa chewed on her bottom lip in worry as she sat behind her on the bed, looking over Bellatrix's shoulder at the mark she had just been branded with a mere two hours previously. It was an honor, she had said; to be chosen. And maybe it was, but right then it didn't look like it.

Her skin looked raw; burned and charcoaled into the shape of a snake and a skull. Bellatrix was breathing heavily, no doubt trying to distract herself from the pain it so obviously gave her as she stared at her mark with an unreadable expression on her face. It made Narcissa feel sick; that she would allow someone to do that to her body. Bellatrix's skin used to be flawless; she was perfection in human form. Not anymore, though. Now, she was forever marked as belonging to another. Now, she was forever marked as _his_. Him, who saw her as nothing more than a soldier, and not like the magnificent creature she truly was.

It made the pit of Narcissa's stomach burn with jealousy. She hated him, she hated this whole ordeal. But she kept herself silent; knowing that if she dared speak a word against the Dark Lord Bellatrix would cut her from her life, no questions asked. She lived for him, breathed for his cause. Narcissa was nothing compared to that and though she hated coming second in her sister's life, she found it was better than never being a part of it all.

Narcissa ran her fingers through dark curls before leaning in, placing hot, open mouthed kisses underneath her sister's ear. "What are you doing?" Bellatrix asked flatly, making Narcissa's eyebrows rise. She had thought it was fairly obvious what she was doing.

"Trying to distract you from the pain," she whispered in her ear before taking her lobe between her teeth, nibbling on it slightly. She could hear Bellatrix exhale a hard breath and she smiled against her skin.

"I'm not in any pain."

It was a lie, but Narcissa let her believe it to be true, if that was what she wanted. She slid her hands around her torso, then up to cup her breasts. "Then I'm trying to seduce you," she compromised, chuckling softly into her sister's ear. She went to kiss her again, but Bellatrix turned her head away from her, her eyes again on the mark that marred her otherwise flawless skin.

"Today isn't about you, Cissy."

Narcissa stopped, a hurt look flashing across her face. She pulled away from her, a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. "I thought everything was about me," she said in a small voice, trying to mask the rejection she felt. She was echoing Bellatrix's own words; what she had always said to her, nearly every day of her life.

"Not anymore."

It sounded regretful, but that didn't matter. Bellatrix's words cut Narcissa up inside and she felt tears spring to the back of her eyes as she turned her face away, not wanting her sister to see her cry. She pushed herself off the bed, realizing with a heavy heart that perhaps she no longer belonged there. It had always been the two of them; her and Bellatrix against the world. But she was starting to realize that Bellatrix had someone else to fight the world with now.

And that killed her inside.

"Cissy…" Bellatrix tried, only now just realizing what she had done as she heard Narcissa sniffle as she made her way towards the door. She finally tore her eyes off of her arm to look at her sister, but Narcissa wouldn't meet her gaze as she grasped the door handle.

"You made your decision, Bella. There's really no use in pretending otherwise," Narcissa answered, her voice barely above a whisper as the words stuck in the back of her throat. She knew this day would come; had been dreading it for years now, but somehow she didn't think it would be this soon. But perhaps it was foolish to think that they were forever; after all, when the sun burns out and the world freezes over, the word will have lost its meaning.

Just as her love did that day.

\- FIN -


	6. The Imperfection in Perfection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: druella/narcissa, perfection  
> Rating: t  
> For: anonymous  
> Where: tumblr  
> Warning(s): verbal abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse

"How on earth do you expect to find yourself a proper husband when you look like you swallowed a bloody _cow?_ " Druella shrieked, looking positively murderous at the sight of her youngest daughter's rapidly maturing body. Narcissa tried to wrap her arms around herself, suddenly deep in a pit of self-loathing and shame, but Druella grasped her daughter's elbow firmly; fingernails breaking the skin as she began to forcefully drag Narcissa to her bedroom.

"Honestly, what have they been feeding you at that dreadful school? I knew I should have sent you to Beauxbatons, but you know your father and the _French_. Despicable people, surely; but they at least— _dear lord in heaven;_ your arse looks like you're hiding two Quaffles beneath your dress!" Druella stared at her backside in horror for a moment before emitting a loud sigh of frustration, shoving Narcissa nearly headfirst into the bedroom. The door slammed behind them and Druella made a dramatic show of her displeasure by finishing with, "God, the sight of you makes me _wretch._ "

Narcissa's face flushed in anger and embarrassment as she straightened herself up, trying to have at least a little bit of dignity in her stance. But it was hard; her mother expected nothing but perfection from Narcissa and her two older sisters – an obsession that forced Bellatrix into utter madness and caused Andromeda run away. Druella Black was a positively _unbearable_ individual, let alone a horrible excuse for a mother.

Narcissa knew better than to talk back, but in that moment she didn't care. For the first time in her life, she didn't hate herself when she looked in the mirror. In fact, Narcissa found she actually _liked_ the woman she was growing into. But with just one comment from her mother, her self-esteem that she worked so hard to build shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Women are not _sticks_ , Mother!" Narcissa exclaimed, her throat constricting as she forced herself to keep her tears at bay. But it hurt; it all hurt. For once she wanted her to mother to love her for who she was, not who she could become. "Real women have hips, and breasts, and _arse!_ There's nothing wrong with me!"

Narcissa's sentence was barely out of her mouth before Druella grabbed a fist full of her, fury in her eyes as she forcefully pulled Narcissa over to the full length mirror on the far wall. "You insolent child!" she spat as Narcissa tripped, falling to her knees. "Get up!" The grip Druella had on her hair was so tight and painful that Narcissa was sure her face was going to rip clean off. But she merely whimpered pathetically in response, biting hard on her bottom lip. If she screamed, it would be worse. It always was.

"If you can't see your obvious imperfections, then allow me to point them out _for_ you!" Druella raged, throwing Narcissa on the ground in front of the mirror. "Take off your clothes," her mother ordered, a dangerous look in her eye as Narcissa's gaze connected with hers.

"What?"

"Your clothes, girl; are you stupid?" Druella roared, grabbing the back of Narcissa's dress, nearly making the youngest black topple over again in the midst of trying to get back on her feet. She pulled down the zipper roughly, ripping some of the material as cool air hit Narcissa's back. The blonde flushed again, not particularly wanted to get naked in front of her mother. So she pushed Druella's hands away as she tried to slip her dress down over her shoulders.

"No, Mum! I know what I look like, okay? It—"

But she was silenced with a slap that left the whole right side of her face feeling like it was on fire. Tears sprung to Narcissa's eyes and she cradled her cheek in her hand, silencing herself immediately. It wasn't worth it to argue if all she was going to achieve was more abuse.

"Don't talk back to me, you putrid waste of space! In this house you will respect my wishes, _is that understood?_ "

"Yes…" Narcissa mumbled, giving up the fight as she allowed her mother to pull her dress from her body. Her face burned in shame at her current state of undress, being left to stand there in only a pair of knickers. She crossed her arms over her chest in a futile attempt to hide her breasts, at least. But it was short lived as another slap was delivered to her cheek.

"Yes, _what?_ "

Narcissa desperately fought back tears as she answered in a small voice, "Yes, Ma'am…" She cradled her abused cheek once more, turning her face away from her mother. But suddenly Druella's hands were on her shoulders, forcing her to look straight at herself in the mirror.

"Tell me what you see," she demanded.

Narcissa looked at her body's reflection, growing more upset after each passing second. She used to like what she saw, but now all she saw was someone not good enough. _Again._ As Narcissa was unsure of the answer her mother wanted, she opted to stay silent instead. That was a bad decision.

"Don't ignore me, Narcissa; look at yourself! Look at _this!_ " Druella exclaimed, grabbing the fat on her hips that helped fill out her figure. Narcissa winced, yet stayed silent. "This is _disgusting!_ You look like you devoured a bucket of lard; no self-respecting woman would dare walk around looking like you, girl! Look at this; I can't even see your ribs anymore!" Narcissa shut her eyes tightly to try to block out this entire moment as her mother continued to grab and pinch bits of fat all over her body.

But then Druella's hands found her breasts and Narcissa's eyes popped open in surprise.

"And these; you look like a sodding milk maid!" Druella exclaimed, lifting up Narcissa's breasts with her hands until she suddenly let them go, allowing gravity to work against her daughter. They dropped heavily and Narcissa stifled a sound of discomfort before attempting to cross her arms over her chest to protect herself from further abuse. It didn't work. "Only prostitutes have breasts like these!" Druella told her harshly, grabbing a fist full of her right boob, squeezing until Narcissa cried out in pain. "Do you strive to be a whore, Narcissa? Do you plan to shame your family name by spreading your legs for every willing man you meet?"

"No—!"

But the rest of Narcissa's protests choked up in the back of her throat as suddenly her mother's hand was cupping her center over her knickers. Her eyes went wide and her back hit the wall; unable to think, move, or speak. _Was this really happening?_ But her mother's eyes still held a furious rage as she slipped her fingers beneath her panties for a brief moment. She obviously didn't like what she found because the next second Narcissa was once again being slapped across the face.

"Shaved! _Shaved!_ Which one of your filthy sisters taught you that trick? Whores, the both of them; filthy mongrels that don't deserve to bare the Black family name," Druella spat, getting uncomfortably close to Narcissa's face. "Do you truly aspire to be like them, Narcissa? Because so help me God I will teach you the same lesson I taught them at your age; if you wish to look like a prostitute, _you'll be treated as one!_ " She grabbed her hip roughly, her fingertips leaving angry bruises on Narcissa's pale skin.

"No, no! Mum, I'm sorry!" she pleaded, fear gripping her chest at the look in her mother's eye. Narcissa was sure if she didn't find a way out of this than Druella was going to rape her right there to prove a point, just as she did… just as she… _God._

Just as she did to both of her sisters.

Narcissa suddenly felt ill and she turned her face away from her, choking back tears as she pleaded desperately, "I'm sorry! Mother, _I'm sorry!_ I'll stop eating all together if you wish; I'll starve myself until I'm nothing but skin and bones, I promise!"

Druella grabbed Narcissa's chin, forcing her face towards hers as hard eyes searched Narcissa's for any sign of a lie. Narcissa was sure that moment was one of the longest in her entire life. Suddenly Druella let her go; apparently satisfied with the remorse she was given. However she instructed, "Do not forfeit eating all together, you foolish girl; someone is likely to catch on. Instead, after you eat excuse yourself to the bathroom and… _force_ the food to withdraw from your body. Much more ladylike, I assure you."

Narcissa merely nodded in agreement, too terrified to do much of anything else. She held her breath, praying to anyone who would listen that her mother would just leave. She needed to write to Bellatrix; beg her to take her away from all this. She wouldn't be able to bare it here, not anymore. Physical abuse she could handle, but she was sure the sexual abuse was going to tear her sanity in half if it ever went any further.

Druella took a step back, straightening her robes in the mirror before applying minor touches to the placement of her curls. "I _will_ have perfection, Narcissa," she told her seriously, eyes connecting with the blonde's in the mirror. There was a long stretch of silence before she finished seriously, "Even if it kills you."

One sentence had never frightened Narcissa so much.

\- FIN -


	7. Burn with Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bellatrix/narcissa, cissy making love to bella - post malfoy manor in deathly hallows  
> Rating: m  
> For: anonymous  
> Where: tumblr

The beaten flesh beneath Narcissa's touch trembled; fear flashed behind onyx eyes, a sharp intake of breath breaking the stillness of an otherwise quiet room. Narcissa buried her head in her sister's neck, hushing her softly. She closed her eyes and the memory was painful; tinged with regret and sorrow, Bellatrix screamed as though she had lost all hope, all sense of self. But perhaps she had; Narcissa knew it was not often that her sister suffered at the hands of the man she foolishly believed to be her savior.

Bellatrix Black had always been the foolish one though; consumed by the desire to the feel and the need to conquer, she never had much use for her brain. Narcissa had often wished her sister would allow her the privilege of being that other half; the part she had lost so long ago, or perhaps was even born without, for Narcissa knew that Bellatrix was the part of her that allowed her to feel in the way that she did.

Without limits. Without hesitation. Without bounds.

But Bellatrix had no use for thought; for a conscience. She had no use for Narcissa herself most days, but Bellatrix had always been unwaveringly selfish. It was of no matter though; there were days like this – days when Bellatrix was beaten and broken – and though it was a silent request on her sister's part, Narcissa heard it like a symphony.

_Help me, love me, protect me, fix me._

"You're safe now," whispered Narcissa, her tender touch aching to mend what the Dark Lord had broken. Failure, he had called it: failure to do her duty, to serve him no matter what the cost. Narcissa had heard it all before. The same words were uttered to her husband the day he escaped from Azkaban; the same punishment breaking the last remaining hope he held inside of him.

But Bellatrix was stronger than Lucius. Though a tear fell from her hollow eyes, though her skin seemed marred beyond repair, her figure thin and frail; Bellatrix stood tall and proud. She would never break down, never sob and bury her face into the safety of Narcissa's bosom. No, she was not that weak. She was the lightning in a storm, the wind in a tornado; Bellatrix Black was the most frighteningly beautiful thing the world had ever seen.

_Lestrange._

No!

Narcissa's mouth covered bruised lips, her tongue desperate to consume the lie that merely hung above them in silence. But she knew where it came from; Narcissa could remember the day Rodolphus took Bellatrix as his wife. She could remember him promising to love her, to protect her for all of eternity.

_– Lies; immortal words spoken by someone so unworthy –_

And then her eyes, Bellatrix's eyes; they met Narcissa's gaze from across the courtyard, her vows that were meant for Rodolphus then being spoken only to her. Promises of forever that were as much of a lie as the filth Rodolphus spewed, but _oh_ … what magnificent filth her sister's lies were…

The draft in the room prompted both goosebumps and a shiver as Narcissa's fingertips gently teased her sister's hardened nipple. She was utterly glorious when she was nude; like a portrait of Greek Goddess, painted in all the colors of the earth. Bellatrix exuded this sense of dangerous vulnerability; a contradiction that mirrored the mess inside of her mind. She didn't move, but Narcissa hadn't expected her to. A battle currently raged inside of her sister; the desire to stay strong being compelled by her need to let go.

Bellatrix never let go.

_Not unless she was pushed._

So Narcissa pushed into her sister; two long slender fingers that welcomed the warmth like a homecoming. Bellatrix closed her eyes, her mouth falling open. Silence, except for a hot breath exhaled against Narcissa's ear; Bellatrix was through with screaming. Her voice was raw and hoarse once the Dark Lord had finished with her, but he did not want her to speak, merely listen: _this_ was what she could expect every time she returned to him with news of failure. The child had managed to escape yet again; now from both of the people that Narcissa loved. The boy, Harry; he was the cause of their pain, the reason for their suffering.

Oh how sweet it would be; to feel his neck snap beneath her grasp. To deal him the fate he had suffered so many others. Bellatrix stood there before Narcissa and yet she was cold; a shell that held nothing but darkness inside.

_Death._

Her kiss was fatal; bruising and wanton as she shuddered beneath Narcissa's touch. She contracted violently as Narcissa forced her to let go, forced her to give her one moment's vulnerability so she could see it end and rebuild from the ashes. Still Bellatrix made no sound, though her body screamed its gratitude as it shook in the aftermath of pleasure. Her hand tangled in Narcissa's golden mane as she breathed her sister's air, grasping tightly to the one thing that made her feel alive.

_But she wasn't. Bellatrix had died ages ago; another casualty in an endless war._

"The world is burning."

Detached words swallowed by a breath; an observation born from feeling, never thought. Madness, others would call it. Narcissa knew better: it was her sister's clarity. She saw more than just the texture of the soil, the color of the leaves; she saw what everyone else ignored around them every day. It hung there; ever present and taunting, yet so often ignored. She saw death. Bellatrix was death; the end of all things.

Or perhaps she was just the end of Narcissa.

_With open arms, my love._

"Cissy."

Her grip tightened, eyes shut tightly to block out the pain that she would never rid of; it lived beneath Bellatrix's skin, embedded deeply in her soul. Scarred. _Scared._ Bellatrix's palms rested against her cheeks, her forehead pressed against hers as she sucked the life from Narcissa once more with three fierce, desperate words:

"Burn with me."

\- FIN -


	8. If Only You Should Be So Lucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bellatrix/draco, centered around the time they were trapped together inside malfoy manor  
> Rating: m  
> For: raincoatandaxe  
> Where: tumblr

**DAY NINE**

Bellatrix had spent half of her life in a cage. That cage, with its wrought-iron bars and mold infested walls, drove her further into a madness that ended up defining all that she was. It _owned_ her, confining the terrible magnificence that was Bellatrix Lestrange into this tiny little speck of pathetic nothing that made her head scream and her soul burn. She sought release, freedom; the freedom to breathe fresh air and run for miles, the freedom to feel something other than desperation and despair, the freedom to feel, to consume; to fuck and destroy.

Rip the world to shreds and watch the bitch burn; laugh atop its ashes and bathe in its blood. The thought alone made her wet.

But now that freedom she so craved had been taken away from her once more and Bellatrix felt as though she was suffocating. Though this prison was much larger than her last, the walls still felt as though they were closing in on her; taunting her in the way that only eggshell white and decorative curtains managed to taunt a person. She paced relentlessly for hours at a time, the repetitive clicking of her heels inviting others to dwell in her madness. It seemed to lull Lucius into a rather catatonic state as he stared out the window for days on end. Narcissa shouted at her to just stop bloody _moving_ one day, fed up with the noise; but as she was ignored, her sister now spent most of her time locked away in her bedroom.

Draco watched her pace. He watched her move as though mesmerized, but perhaps it was just out of boredom. Still, though he watched her with some kind of ridiculously acute fascination, it was obvious her movements made him uneasy. He shifted in his seat each time she passed him, like he needed to be in the right defensive position should she strike. Draco half looked like he _wanted_ her to strike.

A bloody masochist, that boy was; just like his mother was at that age.

Bellatrix had half a mind to tear out his vocal cords for the sheer amusement of it, but contained herself. It wouldn't do to get Cissy mad at her right now.

|x|

**DAY SIXTEEN**

The sound of crying made Bellatrix want to tear her own neck out. Weakness; a completely disgusting display of character that should be eradicated from the human species. It made her twitch. The sound felt like bugs scurrying across her skin and she scratched at her flesh incessantly as she stormed into the room the atrocious sound was coming from. Her sister's spawn nearly jumped out of his skin, looking terrified for only a moment until he seemed to come off as rather grateful.

Who the fuck did he think she was; his mother? She was not here to coddle him; make him feel safe and loved. The thought alone nearly brought her to hysterical laughter.

"Grow some hair on your bollocks and be a fucking man," she told him, fed up with the whiny behavior that Bellatrix was _positive_ ended up being instilled in him due to Lucius' wretched influence. "The next time I hear you crying I'm going to shove your face in my cunt and use your tears as lubricant."

The graphic exclamation seemed to shock Draco and he stared at her. Human feelings were not something Bellatrix was able to comprehend, so his mixed expression perplexed her. That would bother her, if she had actually had the effort to care in the slightest.

"Fuck you."

Bellatrix smiled, feeling the anger pouring from his words. _Good boy: give into an emotion that makes you stronger._ Perhaps Lucius hadn't utterly destroyed the child after all. How Narcissa allowed him to turn out this way, she'll never know.

Laughter. Oh, it felt strange.

"If only you should be so lucky."

|x|

**DAY TWENTY ONE**

The Dark Lord reined hell down upon the household, causing everyone to scatter so as not to be hit in the crossfire. Bellatrix stayed; for she wanted to be hit. He used the Cruciatus Curse on her in His rage and she shrieked in pain and glee. Feeling. She had about forgotten that. The delicious pain of being truly alive; it was magnificent in comparison to the dull, numbness that had settled in due to a boringly repetitive routine. She welcomed it; she _reveled_ in it.

Hours later, Bellatrix could hear Draco crying again in his room. He sounded like such an insignificant child, regretting the choice he had made. So proud he was when he was Chosen; so like his father, who ended up being just as spineless and regretful now that things became harder than they were expecting. Stupid, insolent, _pathetic…_

Bellatrix stormed in his room, making good on her word. Turns out he was so lucky.

|x|

**DAY THIRTY SIX**

Draco probably thought she was trying to make a man out of him. Incidentally, she was only trying to cure her boredom and piss off her sister. It was utterly frustrating, how Narcissa didn't listen to her anymore. One upon a time she was nothing but a sheep; hanging upon every word Bellatrix spoke as though it was sacred and worshipped. But she had stepped out her sister's shadow and sought to be a person of her own and that, _that_ was simply unacceptable.

A loud grunt filled the room as she felt him fill her with his seed.

Fuck. Draco always came too quickly; it was utterly disappointing. Bellatrix was lucky she was barren, as abortions were tedious; though the look on dear Cissy's face if Bellatrix had told her she was going to have her son's child would be _hilarious._ Still, the thought did not sate her foul mood.

"Get off me," she growled, practically throwing Draco to the bed so she could teach him that what he was doing was not acceptable. She pinned his arms down with her knees before shoving her cunt in his face, keeping it there until she was sure all of his semen had found its way down Draco's throat. The boy gagged.

"That's what you can expect every time you cum before I tell you to."

|x|

**DAY FORTY NINE**

Bellatrix screamed as her back arched, her nails ripping to shreds the perfectly pale back above her. Oblivion, finally; for one solid fucking moment she didn't feel trapped. As her walls continued to contract violently she reached up, closing her fingers around her nephew's throat. It took all of her control not to snap his neck like a twig.

"Cum," she ordered him, squeezing the breath from his lungs as he released inside of her. He choked then, turning blue. Fear and desperation filled his eyes, but Bellatrix held him there until he passed out. She then carelessly tossed him aside, her level of caring dropping substantially.

At least the boy was capable of learning.

|x|

**DAY SIXTY ONE**

"Thank you," he said to her one day. Bellatrix whipped around quickly, as if she were accused of the most horrendous of crimes.

"For _what?"_

If she was somehow doing him any favors indirectly, she'll see to it that they end. Bellatrix Lestrange did favors for no one, save the Dark Lord Himself. No one else was worthy of the honor.

"For being the most heinous bitch I've ever met."

It was genuine, which perplexed her. Bellatrix didn't much like feeling confused as she acquainted it with stupidity, so she said nothing before striding from the room. Perhaps her madness had rubbed off on him; or maybe he was becoming more like his mother every day.

|x|

**DAY SEVENTY**

Potter escaped.

The wrath rained down upon her for that was like nothing else she had ever felt. Bellatrix couldn't move; she couldn't _breathe_. All she could manage to do was bleed all over the nice carpet – something she was sure Cissy was going to fuss about – and clutch her side; trying to hold together her broken ribs. There was a horrible wheezing sound coming from somewhere that she wanted to eradicate. She was only mildly surprised when she realized it was coming from her.

Draco healed her, as Bellatrix couldn't hold a wand to do it herself. Then he washed the blood from her body; his touch so gentle and caring that it made her want to choke him with a fucking rainbow. "Get out," she barked.

"You're hurt," Draco responded, an unspoken 'idiot' tacked on to the end of that sentence by his tone.

"I'm fucking fine now; merely bloody. I said get the hell out."

She didn't like the vibe she was getting from him; it nauseated her and made her want to kill tiny animals and eat the heads off babies.

"No."

" _Do you have a death wish?_ "

"Do you have to be such an insufferable cunt all the time?" Draco countered. Well, there were the balls Bellatrix made a point to have him grow. They were almost impressive, should she be bothered with silly things such as pride. "Just let me take care of you for one bloody second, yeah? Excuse me for giving a shit that you're in pain."

The amount of emotion coming from the boy in front of her made Bellatrix want to gag. Good lord, could he really be so daft as to actually develop some sort of idiotic crush? Ugh, the way he was touching her so _gently…_ she had half a mind to throw herself off the roof of this place just to save herself from the horror of it all.

"You reek of desperation," Bellatrix told him in disgust, picking herself up off the bed just to get some distance between them. "It's pathetic, Draco. I am not your lover, I am your Aunt; learn the sodding difference or learn to fucking masturbate."

Draco looked furious. His precious pride had been wounded and he didn't like that. No, not at _all._ "I'm not blind, you mad bimbo; I see the way you look at me! You can't fucking deny that!" His outrage made her wonder if this was the first time the child had ever not gotten his way. It was utterly unbecoming; the whine his tone held, the demand that he be entitled to something completely nonexistent.

"You mean with contempt?" Bellatrix sneered. "No, Draco; I cannot deny that."

"I MAKE YOU _FEEL!"_

"Orgasms make me feel. You, my dear, make me want to set fire to tiny puppies."

|x|

**DAY SEVENTY FOUR**

Draco went crying to his Mummy. His mummy then tried to fucking strangle her.

"You _dare_ touch my son?" Narcissa raged, her fingers closing around Bellatrix's throat. "You dare defile my boy?" She looked ready to murder her, which prompted Bellatrix to smile at her, allowing her sister to cut off her air.

"He looks just like you when he cums, you know."

Narcissa's grip on her throat tightened before her other hand collided with her face. Compared to the slap Bellatrix was expecting, the punch felt like she was just dealt a bludger to the face. Her nose trickled blood and despite herself, Bellatrix was impressed. She laughed gleefully. Oh dear, _dear_ Cissy…

"I'll fucking kill you."

Bellatrix head swam as the world blurred in an out of sight. It was such a glorious feeling; being strangled by her sister. She was so dainty, so _proper_ ; now look at what Bellatrix caused. It was beautiful in its disaster; the perfect bow atop her gift to the world.

"You don't… have… the nerve…." Bellatrix struggled to say through gasping for air, still laughing as she taunted Narcissa into becoming a killer. Such a worthy accomplishment, that would be.

Bellatrix suddenly hit the ground hard.

Narcissa had let go of her, allowing her sister to collapse against the cold, marble flooring. "No," she disagreed in a sneer. "I have the nerve, I just would never give you the _satisfaction_." Bellatrix cackled as she watched her sister stride from the room in a wave of strength that she would take such pleasure in stripping from her.

_Challenge accepted._

\- FIN -


	9. The Perfect Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bellatrix/narcissa & narcissa/lucius, the night narcissa learns of bellatrix being sent to azkaban vs the night she heard of lucius' imprisonment  
> Rating: g  
> For: anonymous  
> Where: tumblr  
> A/N: this turned into more cissatrix rather than being balanced out evenly. I blame my one track mind.

**December 22, 1982**

The winter was harsh and bitter that year.

Narcissa sat motionless in her chair, staring out the window at the light snowfall that promised a white Christmas. Its beauty and grace felt like a brutal torment.

Her grip tightened on the goblet in her hands before bringing it up to her lips. The liquid burned its way down her throat and a knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Heavy, foreboding. Her vision blurred through her tears.

In the adjoining room, a son cried for his mother.

Narcissa's hands shook as she brought the goblet back to her lips, its contents doing nothing to sate the emptiness she felt inside of her chest. A sickness began to brew inside of her and Narcissa fought to keep her bile down as she took another drink.

She could not bear to go to the trial; Narcissa did not want the last time she ever saw her sister to be in chains. Her whole body began to weigh heavy with guilt and she felt as though she were sinking into the chair.

She should have done something.

A door behind her opened, yet Narcissa did not turn to look. It was a struggle to bring the goblet to her lips again, her limbs feeling chained as well. A penance, surely.

"Bellatrix was given a life sentence."

Narcissa swallowed the rest of the liquid in one gulp before the goblet slipped from her fingertips. The sound of silver against marble startled Draco and his wails increased, making Narcissa's head throb. His father should tend to him. Lucius, he was…

She vomited on herself and then everything went black.

**August 2, 1996**

"You're not going to poison yourself again, are you?"

Narcissa did not turn to look at her sister. Instead she stared out the same window she did so many years ago, wondering why the weather always felt the need to taunt her during times like these. The sun was blazing high in the sky, a light breeze causing the leaves to rustle and the grass to tremble.

A perfect day.

"I didn't think you would come."

Hands touched her hips as Bellatrix crept up behind her. "I didn't feel like burying you today; funerals are becoming ridiculously costly."

Narcissa smirked, despite herself. Her tone quickly became serious though as she stared out the window, watching a butterfly find its home in her garden. "I wasn't going to kill myself, Bella. Draco needs me."

The lilacs were particularly beautiful this time of year.

"Did he not need you when he was two?"

Her sister held a knife in her gut from those words and Narcissa couldn't breathe for a second. Her fingernail picked nervously at her wrist. "I was foolish."

_I was lucky Lucius was skilled in poison antidotes._

Bellatrix clicked her tongue as she moved away from her. The warmth that her hands provided her now left icicles in their wake. "Pity," she murmured, her tone much too arrogant for the situation called for. "And here I thought I was special."

Narcissa rounded on her fiercely. She moved to strike her, but contained herself. She was more than the weight of her emotions. She clenched her fist instead, fingernails digging into her palm.

"This is not a _joke!_ Do you not care that I'm in pain right now?"

Bellatrix's eyes flashed.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Narcissa set her jaw before turning away from her, resting her weight on the windowsill as she pressed her forehead against the glass. She breathed deeply, trying not to remember the sight of her husband being taken away in chains. He looked so utterly defeated.

"Will the Dark Lord get him out?"

That hope kept her from weeping openly.

"Eventually."

The knots in her stomach loosened. That was not a no.

Silence ticked through the room for a moment as Narcissa forced herself upright. She squinted against the sun's rays, but felt the temporarily blindness was most comforting. She could not see Lucius in chains anymore.

"You went to his trial."

Narcissa swallowed at her sister's tone. She shut her eyes, allowing the blinding white to fade to a deep red. "Yes," she whispered. A lump settled in the pit of her stomach as she watched vitreous floaters dance beneath her lids.

"You went to his… and not mine."

Bellatrix genuinely sounded hurt and it made Narcissa laugh without meaning to. "I'm sorry," she apologized as she opened her eyes, staring at an imperfection on the window pane. "But if you're feeling rejected, perhaps you should be reminded that I tried to take my life that night."

"I didn't _want_ you to take your life, Cissy! What comfort is that supposed to be to me?"

Hands grasped Narcissa's forearms, shaking her fiercely. She did not fight it as Bellatrix turned her around, one hand pressed against her stomach to hold her in place. She merely stared into her sister's eyes, getting lost in the emotion behind them.

"You were the last thing I wanted to see before I had to go; the only _good_ thing I ever sodding did with my life… _and you weren't there!_ "

Bellatrix's pain cut through the universe and a loud rumble was heard overhead. A tear fell from Narcissa's eye just as the rain started descending from the sky. It was so sudden it was almost startling. Narcissa foolishly wondered if her sister really was that magnificent of a being that even the heavens themselves wept for her.

What a childish thought, that was.

Narcissa watched as shadows begun to engulf every shred of light that touched the earth; eradicating the hope for clarity. At last, weather fit for the moment.

"If you had seen me, you would have known. You would have known what I was about to do, yet would have had no way to stop it. You would have been helpless, Bella."

Thunder rolled in from the east and onyx eyes searched hers for a sense of clarity.

"I didn't want you to live with that torture," she finished.

The wind howled outside as Bellatrix's breasts pressed firmly against her own, making Narcissa rest her forehead against her sister's. Her eyes fell closed in a silent apology as Bellatrix cupped her cheek possessively.

"I would have gladly lived with the torture, should it have meant I got to see your perfect face for one last time."

Her whispered admission made an onslaught of emotions rise up in Narcissa. Overwhelmed with the feeling, she pressed her lips against Bellatrix's, her tongue intending to drink in all that she was. Bellatrix grasped the back of her neck with such desperation that Narcissa couldn't help but wonder if her sister had been waiting for this moment all her life.

The kiss deepened and Narcissa moaned.

It was beautiful, it was disastrous, it was exhilarating. It was, for the first time in her life, something that felt truly _right_. Narcissa only wished she had found out sooner that Bellatrix was her perfect poison, for if she was the end of all things than Narcissa knew she didn't want to be saved.

Not this time.

\- FIN -


	10. What We Deserve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bellatrix/narcissa, teenagers or young adults - something kinky involving a shower, alcohol, and heavy breathing into ear/filthy dirty talk.  
> Rating: e  
> For: anonymous  
> Where: tumblr  
> A/N: this is so ridiculously long. good god, lol

"So you're just going to stand there and watch me take a shower, are you?" Narcissa asked, her words slurring a bit as she stepped underneath the hot jet of water. Her foot slipped in the slick tub and she nearly came crashing down, alcohol bottle in her hand and all, if not for Bellatrix reaching over to steady her.

"Seems I have to so you don't bash your bloody head open," Bellatrix retorted before grabbing the liquor bottle from her sister's grasp. "And you are _so_ done with that."

"Give it here!" Narcissa protested angrily, swiping for the bottle and yet missing entirely and Bellatrix held it out of her reach. "I'm not a child, I can handle myself!"

"No one _drinks_ when they're in the shower," Bellatrix responded, looking at her like she had gone completely mental. "For fuck's sake, just wash up so I can put you to bed and get on with having _my_ fun." She tipped the bottle to her lips, taking a large swig herself. Narcissa glared at her before grabbing the shower curtain and pulling it so roughly that the metal prongs screeched against the bar, covering her from Bellatrix's view.

"Bitch," she mumbled, closing her eyes momentarily as tipped back her head, letting the water soak her long blonde hair.

The curtain was wrenched open once more.

"Leave it, you perv!" Narcissa shouted, whipping back around to face her sister. "If you wish to see me naked that badly then spy on me like any other self-respecting pedophile: _out of view._ "

"If I'm _out of view_ I can't very well catch your stupid arse when you fall down, now can I?" Bellatrix retorted, quickly growing annoyed with Narcissa's drunken, belligerent behavior. "And we're four years apart; I hardly think that qualifies as pedophilia."

"It does when you're an adult and I'm still a child," Narcissa muttered, turning her back to her so her sister would quit staring at her breasts. Honestly, it's like she didn't have a face to look at. While rationally she could understand the need to stare at someone's nude body if they had never seen it before, but it made her feel weird that her _sister_ was looking.

For all sorts of different reasons.

"You're _fifteen!"_

"Stop staring at my arse," replied Narcissa, a smirk on her face as she purposely annoyed Bellatrix. She was bent down as she retrieved the loofa that had fallen to the base of the tub and she was almost positive that Bellatrix was looking. She hoped to shame her so badly that she'd just sodding _leave._

"Wasn't your arse I was staring at, love."

As Narcissa's plan backfired she felt _herself_ blush from nearly head to toe as she immediately straightened herself up. She wasn't thinking clearly; she had forgotten bending down that way would give Bellatrix a very intimate view of another area. "Bella!" she protested furiously, turning around to push her backwards.

Bellatrix shouted explicates as the bottle of liquor she had to her lips came spilling out all over her, soaking her dress. "What the _bloody hell_ was that for? Look what you've done, you stupid cow!"

"You shouldn't be staring at my… my…" Narcissa stuttered, her face flushing once more.

"I wasn't staring at your pussy, you daft bimbo! Where's your head at? Honestly." Bellatrix's lip turned up as she started to smell the liquor on herself. "God, I hate you," she seethed before tearing off her dress and undergarments. Narcissa's eyes went wide.

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Bellatrix countered as she threw her knickers across the bathroom. "I need to wash now and if I let you finish you'll use up all the hot water."

Narcissa stared at her, her brain seemingly unable to work now that her sister was naked. Perhaps she shouldn't have chided Bellatrix about staring because it was all she could seem to do. Her breasts were… they were sodding _perfect._

How was that fair?

Narcissa looked down at her own chest self-consciously before crossing her arms over them, not wanting to be comparable to Bellatrix any longer since she seemed she couldn't hold a candle to her. Her face masked in annoyance. "You're not getting in here with me!"

"Watch me," responded Bellatrix as she climbed into the tub behind Narcissa. "Move," she told her, placing her hands on Narcissa's hips to guide her out of the way. Narcissa nearly jumped from her touch; from her naked _sister's_ touch as she herself was nude. Her face was about fifteen different shades of red as she reluctantly moved, letting Bellatrix get under the stream of water.

Though Narcissa was angry, she still couldn't tear her eyes away from the image of her sister dipping her head underneath the spray of water, running her fingers through her hair. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted as droplets of water rained down on her perfectly pale skin. Narcissa watched one droplet fall from the tip of her hardened nipple and she squeezed the loofa in her hand to try to remind herself to control her own bleeding thought process.

God, she was sick in the head, wasn't she?

As Narcissa started repeating a mantra in her mind that she wasn't having incestuous thoughts, that she was merely drunk and apparently ridiculously _stupid_ , Bellatrix opened her eyes to look at her. "Are you just going to stand there and stare at my breasts all night or are you going to wash yourself?"

Narcissa's cheeks turned a violent shade of red. "Fuck off," she retorted. "I'm not going to bloody stand here and rub this thing all over my body while you're _watching_. I'm not a sodding show girl."

"I didn't say 'masturbate', Cissy; I said 'wash'."

Narcissa's mouth dropped open in horror. "I wasn't going to _touch_ myself!" she practically shrieked, embarrassed. Bellatrix laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"I know. But your face was priceless, wasn't it?"

Narcissa shrieked in aggravation and threw the loofa at her sister. It hit Bellatrix square in the face, which seemed to enrage her. She grabbed it and chucked it violently back towards Narcissa, who yelped and tried to duck. "Stop it!" She picked it up off the tub floor and threw it back at Bellatrix angrily.

Bellatrix picked up the loofa once more, eyes flashing dangerously. "Fine," she growled, grabbing the soap. "If you're going to be a complete _child_ about everything, then obviously _I'm_ going to have to wash you, aren't I?" The loofa began to froth in her hand from the soap bubbles before she started advancing on Narcissa's. The blonde's eyes went wide.

"No!" she protested. "Bella, don't be stupid; I can do it! Just… just _give it!_ " She reached out for the loofa but Bellatrix already trapped her against the shower wall shoving the loofa in her face as she tried to start washing her neck. However Narcissa was attempting to scramble away from her at the same time, so she ended up with a face full of soap. She coughed, spitting bubbles. "Bellatrix, quit!"

"No," Bellatrix told her angrily. "If you want to act like a toddler then you'll be washed like one!" She started washing behind her ears and down her shoulder, keeping a firm hold on her sister with her other hand to keep her from squirming. Narcissa closed her eyes and scrunched up her face in defiance as she tried to push her away, but no avail. One of her arms was wrenched up above her head so Bellatrix could wash underneath it and her face colored again.

This was so humiliating.

"Bella, please; I can do it! Okay? You've made your point!"

"No, I don't think I have," Bellatrix responded, pressing her whole body against herself to still her movements as Narcissa nearly managed to get away. The feel of her sister's entire, wet, _naked_ body against her made Narcissa nearly choke on her breath as her skin began to unwillingly heat up beneath her touch. Good god, she could feel her nipples against her own. Narcissa was sure she was going to pass out and she opened her eyes to try to keep that from happening.

But then Bellatrix was off of her.

Narcissa found herself able to breathe for a moment, but it was short lived. Suddenly the loofa was on her breasts, Bellatrix beginning to wash them and Narcissa felt her body began to react to it of its own accord. Her nipples stiffened immediately, like they were straining for Bellatrix's touch. Narcissa was sure she was going to die on the spot; her sister had noticed.

"I don't know why you're fighting this, Cissy," Bellatrix told her in a low voice, amused. "You're obviously enjoying it."

"Shut up!" Narcissa shrieked, feeling humiliated. How was this happening right now? Was she becoming some sort of perverted _freak?_ For God's sake, her life was becoming a bloody joke. "I can't control what my body does, Bella; leave me alone!"

"I think your nipples would be very displeased if I did _that_ ," Bellatrix taunted, making Narcissa want to cry from the shame. She closed her eyes tightly and looked away from her, giving up on fighting for a moment because she was sure it was futile. If she just let her sister be a bitch and wash her like she was a child, then it would be over quicker.

But then the loofa slid down past her stomach, settling between her legs. Narcissa's eyes popped open in surprise and she turned her head quickly to face her sister. "Bellatrix, stop! I can wash there myself!" She tried to push her away again, but Bellatrix flattened herself against her once more, making the breath leave the younger Black.

"I know," Bellatrix taunted. "But it wouldn't be half as much fun."

"You're perverted!"

"And you _enjoy_ it," she hissed, sliding the loofa up and down her slit softly, teasing Narcissa's clit in a way that made her pant. The blonde bit her bottom lip hard, trying to force herself to not get pleasure from what her sister was doing to her. Was this rape? Oh god, Bellatrix was raping her!

But if this was rape, then why the hell did it feel so _good?_

Bellatrix's breath was heavy in her ear and it made Narcissa ungodly wet. She closed her eyes and whimpered, trying to tell herself that she was not an incestuous pervert, that this was all _Bellatrix_ , but she felt her hips straining to get a firmer contact with the loofa her sister teased her with.

"Bella, please…" she pleaded softly, sure her brain was about to explode from too many emotions at once.

"Please what?" Bellatrix whispered, brushing the hair from Narcissa's neck. She slid her tongue up Narcissa's neck before taking her earlobe gently between her teeth. Narcissa was sure she was going to fall apart; there was no denying what this was now. There was no pretending what Bellatrix's intentions were anymore.

"Please stop touching me with that," she whispered, finding the words themselves hard to even mutter because her whole body ached for her sister to continue. But she needed to be the level-headed one. She needed—

The loofa dropped to the floor, forgotten. Narcissa groaned involuntarily as she felt her sister's fingers slide through her folds, gathering her wetness on her fingertips before softly stimulating her clit. Oh god, this was _not_ what she meant! But she felt her fingers tangling in Bellatrix's wet locks, grasping her hair firmly as she cried out in pleasure from her sister's ministrations. She didn't want her stop. She _needed_ her to leave her be. She wanted to be fucked raw. She wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

"Prop your leg up on the edge of the tub," Bellatrix requested softly, her words a breathy whisper into her ear. Narcissa moved without thinking, doing what she was told so her sister could slide three fingers so deep inside of her that she was sure she was going to pass out from the feeling.

"Bella!" she cried out, her nails digging into her skin as her throat tightened. She wanted her sister to fuck her desperately and it made her want to slit her throat for wanting such a disgusting thing. Bellatrix began to slide in and out of her, twisting her fingers inside of her and making Narcissa's head spin. She whimpered in need as she trust her hips against her hand.

"I'm going to fuck you all night, Cissy," Bellatrix breathed heavily into her ear. "Do all the filthy little things to you that you've always accused me of wanting to do, because I fucking get it now." She began to pick up the pace of her fingers, slamming in and out of Narcissa relentlessly. The blonde sobbed in pleasure, holding onto Bellatrix for dear life as she continued. "You said that shit because you _wanted_ it," she accused. "You told me I was perverted because _you_ were; you were just too sodding scared to do anything about it. I could tell the second you laid eyes on me when I was naked; your gaze begged for me to fuck you up against this wall."

Her thumb slipped against Narcissa's clit and she cried out in need; her moans begging for her to bring her to a mind-numbing orgasm despite her brain calling her all sorts of fucked up things in her head for being this sick.

"I'm going to make you straddle my face," Bellatrix went on, her voice labored by how turned on she was getting. "I'm going to shove my tongue so far up your cunt that you scream my name, _beg_ me to make you come in my mouth. I bet you taste like honey, Cissy; I can't fucking _wait_ to have all of you…"

Narcissa panted, her head swimming with the mental image of that. Her whole body ached for her sister and that made her feel like a freak. She wanted to come, but she wanted to die as well. It was, honestly, the most fucked up situation she had ever found herself in and yet she craved to have so much more.

God, this was going to destroy her.

And yet, the only thing she gasped out was, "Harder!" and Bellatrix readily obliged. Her fingers curled inside of her and Narcissa stifled a scream, biting so hard on her lower lip that she split it. Oh God, she was going to Hell… they were both going to go to Hell, weren't they? That was a terrifying thought and yet Narcissa couldn't find it in her to stop this. Instead, she found herself pushing her hips further into her sister's hand, silently pleading for release.

She was going to burn for eternity because of this.

"I'd do anything for you, do you know that?" Bellatrix whispered in her ear, her heavy breath making Narcissa shiver. "You are the most utterly frustrating person I've ever met in my life and sometimes I want to strangle you, but… I would die for you. You're everything to me; I need you to know that…" She moved her head a little to capture Narcissa's lips with hers, but only for a moment. "I need you to _feel_ that, Cissy… Tell me you feel that, Narcissa; tell me you love me…"

Her voice almost held a twinge of begging in it; fearful that maybe she didn't. But Narcissa did. God, she loved her with every inch of her being. But that was the problem, wasn't it? They weren't meant to love each other like this. She wasn't meant to _want_ this as desperately as she found she did.

Sick. Disgusting. Hell. Burning. Sinning. Perversion.

…But did it matter?

"I love you… Oh god, I fucking… _uggff,_ " Narcissa cut herself off with a groan, eyes closed and face contorted in pleasure as Bellatrix's increased the pressure on her clit. "Bella! _Fuck!_ " she cried out, feeling the pressure begin to become overwhelming. Her nails dug into her sister's skin and she screamed, burying her face in Bellatrix's neck as she came the hardest she ever had in her life.

And then she burst into tears.

_It mattered._

"Cissy!" Bellatrix exclaimed, actual worry crossing over her features; a look Narcissa rarely ever saw. Bellatrix hardly cared about anything and it was almost just a shocking as what they just did, that she seemed to care now. "No, come on," she pleaded, sounding a little scared. She probably was fearful that everything was entirely one-sided. Narcissa wished that it was. "Shh, love; it's okay…" she tried to sooth her, wrapping her up in her arms.

"Stop it! Stop _touching_ me!" Narcissa shrieked desperately, pushing her sister away from her. The look on Bellatrix's face nearly broke her heart; she had never seen her look so hurt before. But it didn't matter then. Nothing mattered besides the fact that she was currently having the biggest panic attack of her life. "Don't ever touch me!" she screeched, looking frightened. "You're _disgusting!_ This… this is _vile_ , Bellatrix! You're sick! _I'm_ sick! I'm fucking… I'm fucking _fucked_ in the head! This is wrong! THIS IS ALL WRONG; _STOP IT!_ "

"I'm… I-I'm sorry," Bellatrix replied, looking incredibly shaken up and like she didn't know what to do with herself. "Cissy, please. I didn't… I mean, I-I thought—No, _Narcissa!_ " She tried to reach for her when Narcissa attempted to scramble out of the shower in her haste to get away from Bellatrix, but she was still drunk and she tripped, tumbling to the floor in a heap… right on top of the empty alcohol bottle. It hit the marble floor and shattered, slicing one of Narcissa's forearms so deeply that it must have cut a vein because a _startling_ about of blood followed.

"Cissy! _Cissy!_ " Bellatrix cried, climbing out of the shower so fast Narcissa barely even saw her move. "Fuck, _fuck!_ Don't move!" she shouted desperately, grabbing a towel off the rack and covering her sister's forearm with it, applying pressure in hopes of stopping the bleeding momentarily. "Here, just hold it like this okay? Keep pressure on it while I go get my wand." She tried to let go of it but Narcissa wouldn't hold the towel. " _Cissy!_ Listen to me, do what I say! Please!"

"Just let me bleed," Narcissa sobbed, feeling damaged beyond repair. "This is what happens, Bella; don't you get it? We're disgusting, _it's what we deserve!_ "

"No, _no!_ " Bellatrix screamed, holding the towel to Narcissa's arm despite her protests. "It was a fucking accident, Narcissa; not some kind of divine intervention! _There's nothing wrong with us!_ Now get up!" She forcefully pulled Narcissa to her feet, knowing she was going to have to bring Narcissa with her to get her wand lest she wished to have her sister bleed out all over the bathroom floor. "Get up before I knock you the fuck out and have to _carry_ you!" Bellatrix shrieked, fearful by how blood soaked the piece of material was getting.

Narcissa didn't have much fight left in her so she followed, sobbing the entire time. Once Bellatrix had gotten her into her room and healed her, she took Narcissa in her arms and let her cry as she held her once damaged forearm protectively. "Don't… don't _ever_ fucking scare me like that again, do you hear me? You don't deserve to die; neither of us do! Please, Cissy…"

She was crying; Narcissa can't remember the last time she saw her sister do that. It was heartbreaking.

"We're fucked up, Bella…" she sobbed into her neck, devastated that they had both turned out this way. She had tried so hard to be normal and now she's condemned them both. She felt like vomiting. She was shaking, but so was her sister.

"No, _no_ , Cissy; look at me," Bellatrix told her forcefully, lifting Narcissa's head up so she would look at her. "We're not sick," she told her. "We're not fucked up, and we're not disgusting, okay? The whole sodding world is fucked to shit, Narcissa… but not us. We're perfect; each of us. Do you hear me? _We're perfect._ "

"I don't feel very perfect…" Narcissa sniffed, another tear falling from her eye. Bellatrix wiped it away with her thumb.

"Then I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel that way, okay?" Bellatrix tried softly, looking at her with more love than Narcissa had ever seen, or felt, in her entire life. She wanted to believe it, but her skin felt like it was crawling. Yet still, all she wanted to do was kiss her sister something fierce and block out the world around them.

So she did. She kissed Bellatrix with every ounce of feeling and desperation in her, knowing that one day she would end up killing herself because of all this. She just hoped that when she did, Bellatrix would come with her… because she didn't want to burn in Hell alone.

\- FIN -


	11. The Dutiful Daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: druella/narcissa, blackcest scene where druella finds out lucius has proposed to narcissa.  
> Rating: t  
> For: anonymous  
> Where: tumblr  
> A/N: this is a much different druella than what I'm sure most of you are used to me doing, but I wanted to try something new.

"I'm very proud of you, dear."

Narcissa swallowed hard as her mother kissed her tenderly on the forehead. A mixture of emotions invaded the pit of her stomach, making it burn with need and regret. It wasn't as though she was unhappy with her engagement to Lucius Malfoy: quite the opposite, really. He was a respectable pureblooded man; everything her mother ever wanted for her.

Narcissa, for most of her young life, sought nothing else than to please Druella Black and though she knew she had succeeded, she was more than aware that her success was taking her away from the only place she ever felt safe. It was both an exhilarating and terrifying feeling and it made her want to reach out to her mother – be comforted and reassured in the manner Druella had always allowed her – but in a way it felt childish to do so now and therefore Narcissa sought to keep herself still.

"Thank you," Narcissa whispered, looking down at her clasped hands as she felt her mother rise from the bed next to her. She was trying to be strong, but the need for loving contact consumed her whole and she reached for her mother's hand, stilling her. "Mum, wait."

Perhaps being childish for one more night wouldn't hurt.

Druella turned, looking at her in a way that suggested she already knew what her daughter wanted from her. But she said nothing, so Narcissa took a hesitant breath before asking, "Do you think that… things will be different now?" She looked down at the hand she held of her mother's, squeezing it gently as she clarified, "Between us?"

Druella untangled her hand from Narcissa's and took a step back. "Things should have been different between us a long time ago, Narcissa," she replied, and for the first time in Narcissa's life, she saw her mother have shame. Yet for the life of her, she didn't understand _why._

"What do you mean?" Narcissa asked, an uncomfortable tightness settling in her chest as she watched her mother's face mask to one of guilt. "Mother?"

Druella let out a heavy breath, pushing the hair out of her eyes. "Do not pretend like you don't understand what I'm speaking of; you're old enough now to know what I've done to you all these years was wrong. But I…" She swallowed, this whole conversation seemingly painful for her to have. "I was selfish," she told her honestly, looking down at her daughter upset. "I took from you because I watched your father take from your sister and I thought…"

Druella could not find it in herself to finish and fell silent, looking as though she had done something so unfathomable. Narcissa furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding in the slightest what was going on. " _No_ ," she insisted strongly, her tone making her mother look at her once more. "No, Mum. You didn't take; I gave. There's a difference. Besides…" she stood up, trying to close the distance between her and her mother, "Father loves Bella…"

"And Bellatrix hates him for it," Druella snapped, her eyes becoming so furious that Narcissa took a step back. "You see what you want to see, Narcissa. You live in a fairytale and pretend everything is all right when you know deep down it is not. Your father raped Bellatrix, Narcissa. Yes, he loved her… but she was not so willing as you were to me and every day I look at her my heart breaks; there's madness stirring behind her eyes and that is _my_ fault."

"No!" Narcissa replied forcefully, the thought that her father would ever do such a thing to any of them angering her immensely. It couldn't be true. "No, Bella taught me how we love each other before you ever did; she taught me because Father taught her – she wouldn't have taught me something awful… and neither would you! Why are you saying such things?"

"Christ," Druella breathed, covering her face with her hand for a moment as she turned away, letting that information sink in for a moment. "Narcissa," she started, her tone indicating she was educating an ignorant child as she turned back around to face her, "you are not supposed to be fornicating with me or your sister. How can you not know that? Are you really so blind to everything that you've convinced yourself what we do in this house is _right?"_

"How can you say it's _not?_ " Narcissa asked, quickly growing upset with this conversation. "You told me that our family was special; that we loved each other more than any other family because we were better than them. All my life you've told me these things and now you're telling me you _lied?"_

"Yes, I lied!" Druella shouted, looking on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "I lied because I wanted you to do as I asked without question! Don't you get it? Something about your tiny, undeveloped body stirred forbidden desires deep inside of me that I should have never have been acted on. Yet I did. Do not tell me you 'gave' me anything, Narcissa; you were too young to know what was really going on, even if you _had_ played around with your sister before. I took you because I was sick, because I was weak, and because I was jealous of your father's fun with Bellatrix. But that's over now; I can't do this to you anymore, regardless of how brainwashed I seem to have made you."

Narcissa felt like she had just been hit in the gut by a bludger. She felt like vomiting and tears sprung to the corners of her eyes. She couldn't believe that; her mother was just being horrible because… perhaps it was her time of the month, or… or perhaps she was just tired. Anything! Any excuse would do, so long as Narcissa didn't have to accept this as the truth. She had lived in this house for fifteen years; she grew up knowing this was just the way their family was… and now her mother was telling her that it was wrong? _Sick?_

"Why?" Narcissa asked, feeling like her whole world was falling apart around her. "I just… I thought perhaps things would be different because of Lucius, but this… I just, I don't _understand…_ " A tear slipped down her cheek and she prayed her mother would turn around and tell it was all a joke; some sick humor for her own amusement. It would make her angry, but it would be so much better than this really happening right now. It felt like her family was tearing apart; it felt like the life she had always known wasn't even real. But how could so many years of her life been a lie? That's just not possible…

"Do you really want to know why?" Druella shouted, her frustration with Narcissa's unwillingness to accept change boiling over. Narcissa cried out that she did because she couldn't fathom how things had changed so quickly and it prompted Druella to look her over before telling her venomously, "Because you got too _old._ "

"…What?" Narcissa asked, her voice sounding tiny even to her own ears. "I'm… I'm fifteen." She didn't feel very old; right now she felt like nothing more than a child – a child hearing that their mother didn't love them anymore. She felt so small.

"Yes," Druella confirmed, looking her over like the sight of her actually _revolted_ her. "Nearly a woman, are you not? Narcissa, don't be an fool: if I had wanted a woman, I would have gotten one. I wanted a _girl_. Which you, my darling daughter, are no longer."

Narcissa just stared at her, tears running down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Druella told her honestly, after taking a much needed breath to calm herself down. "I do… I do feel badly about what I've done to you. I shouldn't have and if I could do it all over again I would have kept my perversions at bay. I feel horrible, but mostly what makes me ashamed and guilty is the fact that it wasn't that you were my daughter, it was because you were a _child_. And what's worse is that it had to take you growing up for me to find it in myself to stop this… for all the wrong reasons."

"But Mother…"

" _No,_ Narcissa," Druella said firmly, her tone indicating that this was not up for discussion. As obedient as Narcissa always was for her mother, she finally quieted herself. Nothing, after all, was ever _her_ decision, no matter how much she wished she had a say in what went on in her life… and what didn't.

So all she said was a whispered, "I love you…" feeling like her heart was breaking in two. Druella looked at her sympathetically.

"I love you too, my darling. But it's time for you to grow up; after all, your body has." She bit her lower lip for a moment before telling her, "Find some happiness with Lucius, will you? And promise me when you have children that you will treat them with all the love and respect that Cygnus and I failed to give you girls."

Narcissa nodded, though felt as though all the love and respect she got from them was enough… _more_ than enough. She couldn't fathom the wrongness of it and that confused her terribly. Still, she would do what her mother told her.

Because if nothing else, Narcissa had always been a dutiful daughter.

\- FIN -


	12. Not Today, Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: none  
> Rating: m  
> For: nobody  
> Where: nowhere  
> A/N: i've just had a really shit day and decided to write this instead of self-destructing. warnings for self injury, suicidal thoughts, and... just general angsty badness.

Her beauty was the perfect disaster. Tinted with self-hatred and fading scars, Narcissa's tears tasted like a hollow dreams and a warm summer's rain. Her bones told the story her blood could only whisper; falling from her wrist so delicately, like silk ribbons that danced only for her sister's eyes. Bellatrix's tongue traced the area she had mutilated, a carnivorous glimmer in her eye as she watched Narcissa offer herself up for the slaughter.

Wet lashes hit flushed cheeks as Bellatrix caressed her most intimate area, her jagged nails piercing her folds and drawing blood as she spread them. Narcissa's mouth fell open, but no sound came out. Her beautiful music had ended long ago, locked in the same cage that held all of her hope and happiness. The dagger she held in her petite little hand went up to her throat for a moment, intent on spilling her misery for the last time, but two fingers slid inside of her warmth and Narcissa shuddered; forgetting for a moment her purpose.

She looked skeletal; a walking dead amongst the beauty of the world that surrounded her. But she could no longer see it; Bellatrix had made sure of that. She trapped her sister in the world between worlds; of black and white, of pain and pleasure, of life and death. Bellatrix watched as her sister grew weary from blood loss, feeling Narcissa's life essence stick to her back like warm honey as her sister held onto her.

"Do you want to come, or do you want to die?" Bellatrix proposed in her ear, using her other hand to wrap around Narcissa's, pressing the knife in her hand further into her throat. A few droplets of blood slid down to her chest, road mapping Bellatrix's next destination. The tragic princess opened her reddened eyes, looking through what she should be looking at.

"Die."

It was always the same answer and Bellatrix smirked, forcing the knife away from her sister's throat as she lapped at the blood around her jugular. When she bit down she pressed hard against Narcissa's clit, finally making a small note as her sister cried out. She was a piano out of tune, but an instrument that Bellatrix knew how to play nonetheless. As she tugged at her strings and ate out her soul, Narcissa's begs were not for pleasure, but for pain. _Please, please, please…_ and then dead silence as the tragedy shuddered in Bellatrix's arms in a post-orgasmic haze, hating herself just a little bit more.

"Not today, love."

\- FIN -


	13. The True Definition of Masochism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: black sisters threesome, explicit.  
> Rating: m  
> For: emmafrostx   
> Where: tumblr  
> A/N: this story ran away from me a bit and by the time I was halfway done, I realized I would never be able to get the three of them into the same bed, lol. So this is more a love triangle than it is a threesome (Narcissa/Andromeda, Bellatrix/Narcissa, Bellatrix/Andromeda) ¬_¬ My fault for overcomplicating it.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Andromeda’s voice was cold, cutting through Narcissa’s confident façade so violently that a chill washed down her spine, eliciting her vulnerability. No, she shouldn’t be here. She should be anywhere else _but_ here, and yet there she stood on her sister’s doorstep for a million different reasons, yet none of them sounded the least bit sane if she were to say them out loud.

Andromeda’s reaction to her presence was not unexpected, of course; the two sisters hadn’t spoken to each other in almost two decades, so Narcissa was hardly expecting a warm welcome. However it seemed she was also unprepared for the possibility that Andromeda’s rejection might actually sting her, and so the pang in her heart caught her by surprise.

Feelings. Narcissa forgot sometimes that she had those.

“I know.”

Narcissa fell silent, offering no explanation as to why she showed up on her estranged sister’s doorway at two in the morning. She didn’t wish to speak of her private affairs outside anyhow; they were born to a more civilized breed, even if it seemed Andromeda abandoned those beliefs long ago.

“Well?” Narcissa questioned. “Are you going to invite me inside or am I to assume the mudblood you married stripped you of your manners, as well as your pride?” She stood statuesque, the only indication of her increasing anxiety outwardly presented by a habitual nervous tick in her left wrist. It did not go unnoticed.

“You still believe you’re better than me,” Andromeda observed, tone indicating a hint of surprise. She leaned against the threshold, crossing her arms as she took a minute to really _see_ the Narcissa before her. After a moment’s silence, she let out a slight disbelieving laugh. “You really do, don’t you? _Unbelievable._ Something’s really never do change. You’re standing outside my door, disheveled and on the verge of a panic attack, preparing to throw away the last of your pride to ask for help and yet still believe that you can walk on bloody water. Your arrogance really is unsurpassed, Cissa.”

Narcissa heard every word, yet chose to process only a few. Slender fingers ran along the crease of emerald fabric with frustrated denial. “I do not look _disheveled._ ” She spat the word as it were offal in her mouth. Narcissa Malfoy never looked anything less than picturesque, even in her worst of hours.

Andromeda ignored her sister’s vanity as though she didn’t even hear Narcissa speak. “You must be terribly disillusioned to the darkness that surrounds you, dear sister.” Her voice was softer than before, yet seemed to hold no note of care or concern. Andromeda’s eyes however, they sparkled with a newfound curiosity that made Narcissa uncomfortable in her own skin. Andromeda tilted her head slightly to one side, careful to assess her sister’s reaction to her next words. “Did you even know it was there?”

She knew this would happen. Andromeda always did this; dissected her. Picked her apart to see what made her tick. Narcissa had often wondered if she did this to everyone, or if she was just special.

Regardless, she’d had practice with this long ago. So Narcissa stood completely still; rapidly exhausting the last of her willpower as she put everything she had into appearing effortlessly unconcerned. For most people, she was akin to a stone wall.

“Could you even feel it?” 

However to her sister, despite countless efforts, she had never been made of anything other than glass. 

When Andromeda spoke again, her tone was nothing but furious accusal. “Or did you choose to disillusion yourself, so you could finally give in and taste the poison on her lips?”

 _Bellatrix._ She tasted of blood and wine. 

Her heat, her breath… it could cause the very fabric of reality to burn in her wake, allowing Bellatrix to save Narcissa from the horror of her own reality by replacing it with a sweeter sounding nightmare of her own choosing. Narcissa never hesitated to devour her sister’s lies; they were artwork compared to the rest of the world. They were beautiful.

But they also condemned her.

“I knew it. You reek of her self-destruction.” 

Strange that she could remember, after all these years. But then perhaps not so; painful memories were never easy to forget. Bellatrix was the center of her nightmares, even still.

“You promised me.” Her voice stung with the pain of her Narcissa’s betrayal. “I’ve spent the majority of my life trying to protect you from her. I still…!” but Andromeda couldn’t say those words out loud. She couldn’t say anything, she couldn’t _do_ anything. The damage had already been done, to all of them.

It was all for nothing now.

Andromeda’s fist hit the cedar door in a rage, her emotions boiling over. She turned back towards her sister, chestnut hair cascading almost violently over her shoulders in a way that would be beautiful, if Narcissa wasn’t utterly frightened by her expression. “And you repay me _how?_ ” Andromeda screamed, voice catching slightly from the sorrow laced between her anger, “by lapping at her cunt at the first chance you had?! You _disgust_ me! Do you ever think of _anyone_ but yourself?”

The force behind the involuntary tick in Narcissa’s wrist had multiplied. Her breathing shallowed. Her stomach felt as though it were lined with rocks. The ground, when once was so firm beneath her feet, now felt as though it would cave from underneath her. Perhaps the sky would fall instead.

Being forced to face reality always was far too much for Narcissa.

It wouldn’t slow down; her wrist. The feeling was both overwhelming and frightening; not having control over one’s body movements was highly disconcerting. Narcissa tried to ignore it – like she always did with so many other unmanageable situations in her life – but it was difficult.

This was not how this visit was supposed to go.

“Please.” Her voice came out strained. She couldn’t do this out here; her dignity wouldn’t allow it. Perhaps she would get lucky and faint; it felt like such a simpler way out of this. “Please… invite me into your home. I-I’ll explain in there once… once I…” Narcissa couldn’t remember what she was saying. She needed to breathe. She needed to sit. She needed to apologize…

She needed to regain control over her legs.

“You always were so bloody useless on your own,” Andromeda muttered under her breath, attempting to hold her sister’s weight. After she had prevented Narcissa from falling, the younger woman had to take a moment and collect her bearings. “Look at you; you don’t even know how to control your own sodding panic attacks and you’ve been having them since you were five.”

Narcissa would have liked to retort that there was no rational part of the word ‘panic,’ but between her difficulty breathing and the fact that Andromeda had to help her into the house, Narcissa kept the comment to herself. 

She was forced into a large arm chair and Andromeda grabbed her wrist forcefully one hand, kneeling in front of her so they were at eye level. “One,” she counted, slipping easily into a routine she hadn’t had to do for years. It took Narcissa aback for a moment, so when she failed to respond Andromeda’s grip tightened. Narcissa gasped softly in pain, forcing her back to reality. “ _Look at me,_ ” Andromeda demanded. Her sister obeyed. “Nothing exists but me, Narcissa,” Andromeda coached, nodding at her encouragingly. She searched her eyes. “Now breathe. _One._ ”

Narcissa inhaled an unsteady breath, feeling as though for a moment nothing had changed between them. But that was a lie. Everything was different now. _Everything._

She exhaled.

“Two.” 

Andromeda coached her until the count of ten, then released her wrist. It was completely still, for the first time in weeks. Narcissa’s slender fingers slid over her skin, wondering how Andromeda, of all people, could always draw out a sense of calm in her even when Narcissa was sure none existed inside of her anymore.

“It’s your wrist,” Andromeda told her. Narcissa looked up at her, eyebrows furrowed. “The worse it gets the more you panic, surely you’ve noticed after all these years?” All Andromeda was met with was a confused expression. 

Of course Narcissa never noticed though; she had always surrounded herself with people who sought be her hero. She never learned to stand on her own two feet because there was always someone behind her holding her upright. Not anymore though. Lucius was in prison, Bellatrix had descended into madness, and Andromeda hadn’t been a part of her life in years. For the first time in her life, Narcissa was completely alone.

It terrified the hell out of her. Perhaps that was why she threw herself at Bellatrix; she hoped the intimacy would sate the madness inside of her enough to make her want to take care of her. 

It didn’t.

“Your anxiety causes your tick, but your panic attacks are brought on by the fact that you cannot control its movements,” Andromeda explained. “That frightens you. But the more attention you pay to it, the worse it gets. You have to learn to ignore it.”

No, actually it seemed all Narcissa needed was a proper distraction. Andromeda just proved that. But this conversation was not the one they were meant to be having; its importance paled in comparison. Still, Narcissa nodded to indicate she understood.

The silence fell thick between them. Minutes felt like hours. Narcissa sat motionless in the armchair, subconsciously rubbing her left wrist as she tried to find the right words. It was futile though; both of them knew there would never be words powerful enough to fix the rift between them. Still, Narcissa needed to explain what brought her to Andromeda’s doorstep tonight. She owed her that much.

“Draco is in service of the Dark Lord.” The words stuck in her throat. It was a reality Narcissa tried to paint over, but the horror that consumed her was too powerful to be subdued. “He’s been given an impossible task; a punishment for Lucius’ failure. My son…” Narcissa’s throat constricted and she forced herself to look away from Andromeda. No one was granted the privilege of seeing her tears; that would never change. “He is meant to die.”

Narcissa had never said those words out loud before. The reality of them suffocated her. If Draco failed, which he most assuredly would, Voldemort would kill him without a moment’s hesitation. Her precious boy, destined to die because of her husband’s mistake. It was cruel. Vile. Inhuman.

Narcissa’s vision blurred and her thumbnail dug into her palm. She felt sick. 

It took moments, but finally Andromeda spoke. “Every morning when the post arrives, I’m terrified.” The pain and truth behind that admission forced Narcissa’s gaze back towards her. “My hands shake when I open them. Fear overtakes me so badly that some days I even struggle to breathe. The possibility of Nymphadora never coming back home is greater than it ever was, and I’m…” Her voice caught in her throat and sorrow filled her eyes. “I’m _so_ afraid that one of those envelopes, one day, could contain confirmation of my worst fear.”

Narcissa swallowed hard, a pang in the pit of her stomach causing her to feel nauseous. She feared the post as well for that very reason. For leading different lives, their horror seemed very much the same.

“But my daughter made her choice.” Andromeda’s hand rested on her sister’s leg, the only gesture of comfort she felt she could offer Narcissa before she blatantly finished, “And so did your son.”

Narcissa shoved her sister’s hand away, angry Andromeda would believe their situations were similar in that aspect. “Draco’s just a boy! He is not meant to be caught up in this war. He didn’t understand what he was agreeing to; his desire to make his father proud has always clouded his judgment. Your daughter is doing a job she chose and trained for, my son hasn’t yet finished his schooling and was only recruited with the expectation that he would die! Do you understand that, Andi? He is meant for nothing else other than the pain his death will bring to Lucius. So don’t you _dare_ sit there and preach that it’s the same, because it is not.”

Andromeda looked as though she had something to say, yet instead her lips formed into a tight line. After a moment’s silence she stood, shaking her head as she paced. “Why come to me?” she asked, her tone sounding almost accusatory. Slightly jealous even. “Surely Bellatrix would be better suited to save your son; she’s Voldemort’s favorite, is she not? And you’re certainly _hers._ ”

Narcissa visibly winced at the sound of the Dark Lord’s name. How brave Andromeda must be, to speak it out loud. 

Or how stupid.

“Bella is much too infatuated with the Dark Lord to ever question his wishes, you know that,” Narcissa replied softly. She picked at the fabric of her robes, the topic of their sister making her feel uncomfortable. Regardless, she continued, “I still begged her, of course. However to her, my plea for my son’s life sounded like nothing more than disloyalty. That angered her.” Narcissa subconsciously ran her hand over her cheek, as though she could still feel the slap her sister delivered that day. Bellatrix always was quick to violence, even when she was a child. “She told me that I should feel proud that Draco was chosen; that even should he die in the service of the Dark Lord, it would bring great honor to our family. It sickens my soul, to know blood means so little to her now.”

“Blood has always meant nothing to her,” Andromeda told her curtly. “It was only you she adored; the rest of us were nothing more than what we could offer her.” 

A faint crack was heard upstairs. It was foolishly ignored.

“She loved you,” Narcissa insisted firmly. Bellatrix may not know how to love now, but she once held a strong love for both of them. They were family.

“She fucked me.” The bluntness of Andromeda’s statement made Narcissa uneasy. She did not wish to talk about this, but it seemed Andromeda wasn’t giving her a choice. “She loved _you._ At least, it seems, until you started fucking her.”

The blame and anger in Andromeda’s tone made Narcissa flush with guilt. “I never meant to disrespect what you sacrificed for me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She could not look at her. “It was a selfish choice, I’m sorry.”

Andromeda scoffed at her apology. It was far too early for forgiveness.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on forever. The wind howled outside, the ceiling above them creaked. There was always so much noise when time stood still. 

“You’ve no idea what you’ve done, have you?” Andromeda’s voice was soft and full of dread. The sudden change in mood seemed to have startled Narcissa out of her trance and when she looked up at her sister, her stomach dropped. Andromeda looked pale. 

“Whatever I’ve done, I’ve done it to myself.”

The ceiling creaked above them once more and Andromeda glanced upwards. She looked nauseated. “No,” she corrected. “You’ve done it to her.”

_Her?_

Narcissa was beginning to grow paranoid. Suddenly nothing was making sense to her anymore and she was uncertain of what had changed. But as she caught Andromeda glancing at the ceiling again, warning bells began to go off inside of her. “What’s going on?” Narcissa demanded. “What are you hiding from me?”

She had assumed earlier that the wind was causing the ceiling to creak; it wasn’t as though the hobble her sister lived in looked sturdy. However the way Andromeda was reacting to the sound told a different story, one that filled Narcissa with unease. Was there someone upstairs?

“Nothing. Don’t be ridiculous.” The answer came too quickly for Narcissa’s liking and did nothing to sate her suspicion. When Andromeda finally turned to face her sister, she seemed to have collected herself. “It’s late,” she mentioned. “Perhaps we should continue this another time.”

Narcissa didn’t believe for a moment that the late hour was to blame for the abrupt end to their visit, but she didn’t comment on it. Besides, if she did this right she wouldn’t have to.

“I told Bella I would be in Paris for the weekend. She’s been staying with me ever since Lucius’ imprisonment; if I return home there will be questions.” 

Andromeda stared at her as she tried to process the information Narcissa has just given her. She clearly wasn’t expecting anything other than a goodbye from her, as it was the polite thing to do. The unexpected change in her sister’s behavior irritated Andromeda and she put her hands on her hips. “Well that was a bit presumptuous, don’t you think? The entire _weekend?_ ”

“We have more to talk about than can fit in one night,” Narcissa explained, unperturbed. “Besides, you’ve always been too kind to put someone out. I never thought to worry.”

Andromeda looked unsure if she should be flattered by the compliment or irritated that Narcissa had invited herself to stay without permission. But then a soft thud came from upstairs and suddenly Andromeda was quick to comply, “Fine, you can sleep on the couch. Linens are in the hall closet, help yourself.” Narcissa barely had a chance to react before her sister was halfway to the stairwell. “We’ll speak in the morning.”

Andromeda disappeared upstairs, leaving Narcissa standing in the middle of the parlor completely perplexed by her behavior. She was curious to find out what her sister was hiding, but thought it best if she waited until Andromeda was asleep to investigate; by then it would be much easier to sneak around unnoticed.

Perhaps it was just her husband, but Narcissa couldn’t think of a reason Andromeda would hide him from her. Although the more she thought about it, the more Narcissa found it odd that it was nearly three in the morning and she had yet to see him. If he wasn’t what Andromeda was hiding upstairs, where was he? It wasn’t exactly in Narcissa’s nature to notice a mudblood’s absence, or even their presence for that matter, but she was still irritated with herself for being so unobservant.

As Narcissa began gathering a fresh set of linens for herself, she failed to notice that she was no longer alone. “You’re starting to become quite the disappointment.”

Narcissa gasped and spun around so frantically that her back slammed into in to the doorknob of the closet door, causing a sharp pain to shoot up her spine. Despite how badly that had hurt, Narcissa immediately retreated down the hallway a few more steps. Once she had established distance, Narcissa tried to sooth her injury with her hand as she exclaimed angrily, “Have you taken to _stalking_ me now?”

Perhaps it was foolish to respond that way, but pain was always quick to release her temper. Besides, Narcissa didn’t want it known that she was afraid; that was more power than she was willing to relinquish.

Bellatrix merely stared at her; the lack of expression on her face causing Narcissa great unease; she had been expecting anger. “Do you enjoy disrespecting me, Cissy?” she asked, tone indicating nothing but genuine curiosity to hear the answer. 

It was entirely disconcerting. 

“You’re the one who violated my privacy and followed me here,” Narcissa responded boldy. “Perhaps you should ask yourself that question first, so you no longer sound terribly hypocritical.”

The corner of Bellatrix’s mouth twitched; Narcissa’s retort seemed to have amused her. Or perhaps she was anticipating Narcissa’s reaction to her next sentence: “I didn’t come here for you.”

A dumbfounded look crossed the blonde’s face and the smirk on Bellatrix’s face grew wider. Somehow she had managed to turn this into a game, and while Narcissa was never happy to be tormented solely for her sister’s amusement, it was better than having to shield herself from her rage. 

Narcissa’s gaze flickered to the stairwell, dread filling the pit of her stomach. “What have you done with Andromeda?” she demanded. If it was Bellatrix waiting for her upstairs, there was no telling what she did to her. It was no secret what she thought of her.

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” Bellatrix dismissed. Narcissa was about to retort to that, but her sister began advancing on her. “ _Imagine_ my surprise when I found that she wasn’t alone. I would have thought she’d learn by now, but I suppose old habits die hard. Her silly little infatuation with you always has been rather irritating, don’t you think?”

Narcissa ended up backing herself into a corner, yet the fear of being trapped seemed to pale in comparison to the intense confusion that clouded over her at Bellatrix’s words, because she didn’t move. “What the hell are you on about?” Narcissa asked, suddenly very aware that she was unable to understand a single thing that was happening right now. “You sound completely mental right now, do you know that? She isn’t the one that has always been infatuated with me.”

“Correction,” Bellatrix started, slamming her hand against the wall so hard Narcissa visibly jumped. She now had her properly trapped against the corner and Narcissa’s sudden awareness of that did nothing to calm her pounding heart. “She’s been so disastrously in love with you for so long that she’s been fucking _me_ for most of her pathetic life.”

Narcissa didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or vomit. Nothing Bellatrix was telling her made any sort of sense, yet Narcissa knew she didn’t want it to continue. Her sister seemed to be having some kind of psychotic break and right now she _really_ wished she wasn’t a part of her paranoid delusions. But she always tended to be, didn’t she? 

Sometimes Narcissa wondered if Bellatrix did this to her on purpose; messed with her head, because she believed it to be amusing. It sometimes made her question if her sister was even that crazy, or if she simply played it up for the attention. 

Or perhaps Bellatrix just enjoyed scaring people; it always had been some sort of power trip for her, which was why Narcissa made a point to never show fear around her.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but this isn’t funny. Andromeda doesn’t deserve to pay for my mistake. I was the one who disobeyed you, not her.”

Bellatrix seemed to not hear her as she playfully combed her fingers through Narcissa’s hair, like a child grooming their favorite doll. “It sickens her to pleasure me, you know,” Bellatrix mentioned, much too casually than this sort of subject deserved. “She thinks I don’t know it, but I do. It’s the only reason I let her do it. The shame she has, the self-hatred she feels… it’s beyond anything you could ever imagine, Cissy; it’s almost mouthwatering. Oh, you can’t even _begin_ to imagine all the disgusting little things I’ve made her do…”

“Stop it!” Narcissa exclaimed, shoving her sister as hard as she could manage. She had enough of this. “Do you think I don’t know what happened when we were children? Do you think I don’t know _why?_ Why are you trying to relive the past? You have me, Bella; it’s _over._ ”

Narcissa’s back collided into the wall with so much force that it winded her. Bellatrix pinned her arms to her sides, faced etched in anger as she hissed dangerously, “You don’t know _anything._ ” Narcissa winced from the force of her sister’s grip, yet stayed silent. She didn’t want to provoke her further. “You’re the center of everyone’s fucking universe, Cissy; especially your own. Haven’t you noticed? You’re aware of nothing and nobody around you until you find you need them for something. You’re a like a sodding leech; sucking us dry of all the affection you know you could never truly deserve, yet we give you without question. That’s the true definition of masochism.” 

Bellatrix laughed. It sounded cruel, hollow. Yet it was the sadness behind it that sliced Narcissa to pieces. 

“Did you think we wouldn’t notice? _Huh?_ Us, who would have gladly bled ourselves dry should it have made you happy?” Her eyes were wild, like an animal stalking their prey. “But did you care? No. You’ve never been able to, have you? You never once saw me, or her, or _anyone!_ Even when I fucked you, even when I finally thought you had seen me… it was all lies, wasn’t it? You didn’t see me; all you saw was your own sodding reflection in my eyes. I wonder… is that the only way you can ever see yourself, Cissy? Are you even real, or are you just a part of some fucked up dream…?”

Narcissa couldn’t speak. She was so shocked by her sister’s words that she barely remembered to breathe. Her mouth merely hung open, disbelief etched over every inch of her face as she stared at her sister. That couldn’t be what Bellatrix truly thought of her, could it? Could she really believe she was that _horrible?_ Paranoid delusion or not, she made her out to sound like some kind of monster and it made Narcissa want to vomit.

“What…?” Narcissa finally managed to utter, voice barely above a whisper as she tried to make sense of what just happened. “Bella, no… _no._ I saw you, I _see_ you.” It broke her heart to see how badly she had hurt her sister, even if she did not intend to do so. Narcissa looked at her with soft eyes as she cupped Bellatrix’s cheek possessively. “When you touched me you were the only thing that existed, how could you not know that? You breathed fire into me and ignited my soul… how could I ever ignore that?”

Narcissa’s hand slipped backwards to tangle in dark curls, pulling the broken woman towards her. She kissed her fiercely, needing her to understand that even though she may be selfish at times, that didn’t mean she disregarded the people who truly loved her. She needed them to breathe, to live, to feel. And _oh,_ how Bellatrix could make her feel. Her passion ran deeper than anyone Narcissa had ever known, her love for her making her feel whole again, if even for a moment.

The feeling was short lasting.

It took a moment, but Bellatrix’s insanity proved it would not easily be sedated and Narcissa was furiously pushed off of her. “You’re a contamination,” Bellatrix spat. The blonde felt as though she had been slapped and her eyes welled up with tears, yet she would not let them fall. Not for her, not for anyone. It was perhaps, the only bit of pride she had left in her anymore. “I would have burned this world to the ground for you, stripped the flesh off my sodding _bones_ for you. You took everything I had and left me with nothing. Tell me, Cissy; _was it worth it?_ ”

Narcissa felt as though she was on trial for a crime she didn’t commit. She had no idea where Bellatrix was getting her evidence from and it nearly frustrated her to tears.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about!” she cried miserably. “Are you angry that I slept with you, because I thought that was what you always wanted!”

“No, you ignorant little twit,” Bellatrix spat furiously, her face etched with the pain of rejection. “ _I wanted you to love me._ Instead, you used me because I was _convenient,_ because your precious little Lucius was gone and you needed someone to worship the fucking ground you walked on.”

Narcissa stared at her disbelievingly. Even still, guilt began to weigh heavy in her chest. Perhaps on some level, Bellatrix was right. Maybe she did use her. 

But that didn’t mean she didn’t love her.

“I do love you, Bella…” she tried, though her voice was weak. Narcissa knew her sister wouldn’t believe her. She wasn’t sure if she even believed herself anymore. 

Was she caught up in her sister’s delusion, or was this the reality she was born to?

“You love _yourself,_ ” Bellatrix corrected dangerously. The look of contempt on her face tore Narcissa to pieces. A step back was taken, the finality in destroying something both once thought to be unbreakable. Perhaps Andromeda had been right; maybe blood really did mean nothing to Bellatrix, in the end. “If you touch me again, I’ll rip your sodding tits off and force-feed them to your bastard of a son until he chokes to death on your miserable existence. Is that clear enough for you, _Malfoy?_ You’ve fucked with me for the last time.”

Narcissa couldn’t catch her breath. She felt as though she couldn’t see, even though she was staring right in front of her. Somehow she found herself on the ground, the wisps of black smoke from her sister’s departure choking the last remaining bit of life from her lungs. The tears finally fell from Narcissa’s eyes and she buried her face in her hands, resting her head against the wall as she screamed her pain into the empty room. 

She was alone. She would always be alone.

How did this happen? Why did this _always_ happen? Was what Bellatrix said true; did she know how to do nothing else other than selfishly take the love they offered her? It wasn’t as though she didn’t care, but perhaps it wasn’t enough; would never _be_ enough. Maybe she really was nothing but a shell; trying to fill the void inside of her by taking anything someone offered her, sucking them dry until they had nothing more to give.

But then why did they love her? _How_ could they?

_They!_

Narcissa sat up straight, sorrow forgotten and quickly replaced by a feeling of dread. _Andromeda._ What had Bellatrix done with her? Scrambling to her feet, Narcissa violently wiped the remaining tears from her eyes. “Andi?” she called, taking the stairs two at a time. “Andi!”

Narcissa pushed her sister’s bedroom door open with such force that it banged against the far wall. Someone yelped in surprise. It took a moment, but through her panic Narcissa’s eyes finally landed on her sister and she nearly collapsed with relief. “Thank Merlin, I thought she had—” but she stopped mid-sentence, realizing Andromeda wasn’t exactly alright; her clothing was disheveled and torn, a large bruise beginning to darken on her cheek. Her hands were tied to the far bottom post of the bed, forcing her to a kneeling position on the floor.

Narcissa gasped.

“I’m fine,” Andromeda insisted, merely looking embarrassed to be found in such a state. “It’s worse than it looks, honestly. We both know she isn’t fond of betrayal, so I suppose it was only to be expected…” 

Narcissa couldn’t believe the words coming from her sister’s mouth. Was she making excuses for Bellatrix? _What had happened to her family?!_

Narcissa wasn’t sure if Bellatrix’s claims were based in delusions or not, but one thing she was certain about was that both of her sisters had lied to her; there was more to their relationship than they let on. Which, considering Narcissa was convinced that they _had_ no relationship nor contact for more than half their life, wasn’t exactly hard to do. Regardless, Narcissa wasn’t fond of being lied to.

Especially after being brutally forced through emotional carnage. 

Narcissa’s gaze flickered to her sister’s torn clothing. “Did she rape you?” 

Andromeda shook her head. 

It was hard, to keep the accusatory tone from her voice during her next question. Narcissa’s arms crossed across her chest, fingers squeezing previously bruised flesh to remind her to keep calm. “Has she _ever?_ ”

Andromeda’s gaze snapped up to meet hers, surprise etched on her face at the question. Narcissa kept her face neutral, yet stared intently at her. She needed to know. 

The silence seemed to stretch on forever.

“All I ever wanted to do was protect you, Narcissa; you know that,” Andromeda started, her voice strong although tinted with shame; perhaps merely from getting caught. “Maybe I could have gone about that by telling you the truth, but I stand by what I did. It was a complicated situation and at the time you wouldn’t have understood.”

Narcissa could feel each individual muscle in her body tensing with anger. Once she believed that Andromeda was her only sister who would never hurt her. Now she finds she had been lied to for nearly all of her life.

“So instead you let me believe my sister was a _rapist?_ ” she screamed, fury pouring from every fiber of her being. “You led me to believe that you allowed her to rape you, use you as some kind of constant distraction, so that she wouldn’t rape _me?_ Why? So you could come out looking like some kind of hero? What the fuck kind of person _are_ you, Andromeda?!”

“I might have bent the truth, but I am no liar!” Andromeda responded angrily, pulling at the ties that bound her. Narcissa had absolutely no desire to let her loose though, not after that. “Bellatrix told me she was afraid she would! Alright? Neither of us wanted that so _yes_ , I allowed her to fuck me so it’d sate her desire to. I merely told you it was against my will because I was ashamed; can’t you understand that? I was a _child,_ Cissa.” 

“You’re not now!” Narcissa exclaimed. “Both of you have had years to tell me the truth, yet neither of you did. Instead you kept shagging each other behind my back, having me believe that our family was still so torn apart. I was _forbidden_ to speak to you, Andi. Do you understand that? The both of you— you’ve always…” Her voice caught in her throat, emotion welling up in her chest. Narcissa felt robbed of the childhood she was meant to have. “You’ve always hated one another. For years I was the one stuck in the middle. _I_ was the one who was constantly told they were mental for loving the both of you. You and Bella made me feel like _shit_ for caring about the other, and yet I find you two have been fucking for over half of your sodding _life?!_ What the hell is _wrong_ with you two??”

Narcissa was finally beginning to understand Bellatrix’s desire to tear the world apart.

“I told you, it’s complicated—” Andromeda, at least, had the decency to look ashamed.

“Then _un_ complicate it!” 

Narcissa was nearing the end of her rope; her voice was a fitful shriek as she grasped her sister’s satin curtain that hung from the nearest window fiercely in one hand. A crash shortly followed; she had torn the rod right from its base. She barely noticed though; she had merely lashed out and found the closest thing to destroy. It didn’t feel nearly as good as she expected it to.

Andromeda took a hesitant breath. It was obvious she had never thought her tryst with Bellatrix would be exposed, least of all to Narcissa. “I’ll answer anything you want me to,” she responded finally. “But please, untie me first?” She held her wrists up to Narcissa, reminding her that she was still forcefully bound to the bedpost. “Being in this position for so long is causing my leg to cramp up. _Please._ ”

Narcissa chewed on the inside of her cheek, eyes narrowing as she stared at her sister. She didn’t have much desire to let her go, no. She was still infuriated with Andromeda for all the lies. She was still so emotionally destroyed by Bellatrix’s farewell. _She still had the desire to tear everything to fucking pieces._

Why though?

If she were to be honest, the answer would be that Narcissa hated that she couldn’t understand why this all happened in the first place. Bellatrix angrily spat a theory in her face, yet with her it could have been nothing more than paranoid delusion.

_But what if it wasn’t?_

“I’ll let you go if you honestly, _honestly_ ,” Narcissa emphasized, “answer one question for me.”

She might as well ask.

Andromeda, believing she had nothing to lose at this point, did not hesitate to agree. But as Narcissa crossed the room to stand next to her, needing to see the honesty or lie in her sister’s eyes as she answered the question, Andromeda began to shift in her seat a little nervously. The heaviness of the question was already weighing down the silence that preceded it.

Narcissa crouched down in front of her sister, her eyes never leaving Andromeda’s. Perhaps Bellatrix was mad, but perhaps not. Either way, she was going to find out right now. “Are you in love with me?” she questioned softly, her hand resting on Andromeda’s knee; both as an apology and a comfort. Her sister looked like she was about to vomit from anxiety.

The silence ate Narcissa alive.

“I haven’t seen you for a long time,” Andromeda began softly. She couldn’t look her sister in the eye. “I’m not sure what it is I feel anymore.”

Narcissa’s breath caught in her throat. “But you… _did_ at one point?” She needed to know the answer; a real, yes or no answer. Andromeda still wouldn’t look at her.

“Yes.”

The response was barely above a whisper.

Narcissa stared at her. How could it be that she had never known? And how could Andromeda have just left her like that, barely spoke to her for decades, if she loved her? What was wrong with their family; were they always so emotionally stunted, or was this something that began when they fell apart?

Narcissa reached up and began to undo the ties that bound her sister. So many questions ran through her head and she was unsure of which she should ask first. It was overwhelming, to find that she had perceived most of what went on in her life wrong. “If you loved me, why did you leave…?” Narcissa finally asked, finding that to be the most important thing to inquire about right then. It hurt her heart.

What kind of love was that, really?

Andromeda let out a soft sigh, looking so defeated and exposed. She still would not look Narcissa in the eye. She rubbed her wrists as she replied, “You know why I left: Ted.” 

“Where _is_ he?” Narcissa asked, finally being given the opportunity to voice that out loud. She had found it strange that he was not there.

Andromeda pursed her lips, then shook her head softly. “I used to meet Bella elsewhere for our…” she couldn’t even say the word. Andromeda sighed, then shrugged lightly. “Then one day she showed up here. Nearly every week following it, in the dead of night, she would apparate into my bedroom and wait for me. I had tried to keep where I lived a secret for as long as I could, but she eventually found me. Part of me always knew she would. So Ted… he can’t be here, for his own safety. If Bellatrix saw him, she’d kill him. It’s easier for her to ignore my indiscretions if they’re not in her face, you see…”

Narcissa could hear the sadness in her sister’s voice that she was forced away from her husband, and it killed her inside. She could relate.

“You think we lied to you all these years, about our feelings for one another?” Andromeda continued, finally glancing upwards to look at her. “The sad thing is, we still hate each other. We look at each other and get physically ill. But it never stops. By the time I left the family to marry Ted, we were already in too deep. It had become routine; a safe plan to keep ourselves distracted… so that we wouldn’t desire you.”

Narcissa wasn’t sure if she should feel guilty for unknowingly putting her sisters in a position they both despised, or angry that she was being blamed when she didn’t do it on purpose.

“I cut you out of my life for my own sanity, Cissa. I had thought that if I did, my feelings would eventually fade away. But it was really Bellatrix who should have done that, out of the two of us. I knew, I _knew_ that the moment she slept with you that it would destroy her. She could never emotionally handle the rejection of the only love she had ever felt.”

“I _do_ love her!” Narcissa protested loudly.

Andromeda merely shook her head sadly. “Not in the way she loves you. Not in the way _I_ loved you. We both knew you never could, but Bellatrix had always refused to accept it. Which is why I left and she couldn’t be strong enough to do the same. Unlike myself, Bellatrix could have never handled being used in that way; which was a big part of the reason I continued to see her, even after I had already left. I was afraid of what she would do to you should that happen.”

Like completely cut her out of her life? That hurt more than any physical blow she could have dealt. Narcissa’s heart squeezed in her chest and she tried not to think about it. Perhaps her sister would come round… one day. She certainly never meant to hurt her in that way, couldn’t Bellatrix see that?

Narcissa was silent as she replayed Andromeda’s explanation in her head over and over. Despite being completely mental, it made sense… in a way. Still, Narcissa felt so betrayed over how they handled it. Could they have not just told her how they felt? Perhaps it was a bit unorthodox, but they were purebloods; sexual relations between family members weren’t completely unheard of. Maybe if they had just been honest with her, Narcissa wouldn’t have grown up feeling completely torn in half by the care she had for both of her sisters.

And it was completely _fucked_ … because her life was only like that because of the care both of them held for _her._

Something Andromeda said though, struck something inside of Narcissa.

“…‘Unlike you’?” she asked softly, looking at her sister in question. “Did you not leave for that exact reason, Andi; you feared that you would be used by me?”

Why did both of her sisters feel she was so incapable of emotion? Couldn’t she just feel something and have it be looked at as genuine for once? _Used…_ Narcissa would never intentionally use either of them. When she slept with Bellatrix, it was supposed to be about the connection she thought they both needed. Why did it matter what level it was on? Couldn’t they have just enjoyed being with someone who cared for them?

Maybe it didn’t work that way for everyone.

“Once I felt that way, yes,” Andromeda answered softly. She shrugged, exhaling as she allowed herself to let go of the desire to fight her feelings any longer. “But I’ve gotten too old to continue allowing my fear to run my life. I’ve missed you… more than words could _ever_ describe, Cissa.” Her hand slipped over Narcissa’s and the blonde grasped it fiercely. She missed Andromeda too; more than anything. It wasn’t fair that they had to be apart. “So if you use me in the end, it’s worth it. I lived too much of my life without you already. Despite never being able to give back that which you take, you’re still the most perfect person I’ve ever met in my life, Narcissa.”

An emotion Narcissa could never hope to describe welled up inside of her. After all the pain in her life, in this _day,_ what Andromeda said to her could not have been more beautiful. She needed something wonderful in her life, even if it was just for a moment. Even if in the end, it was selfish. 

So without thought, she leaned in and kissed her.

Perhaps it was masochistic of all of the Blacks; the way they felt for each other, the way they took from one another. It was never real in the way any of them wanted it to be, because they all felt so differently towards each other. Still, that didn’t stop Andromeda from responding to the kiss. 

Hands tangled in blonde hair as their teeth crashed together, the urgency behind the kiss that Andromeda had been waiting her whole life for causing it to be sloppy, needy, and desperate. But Narcissa didn’t care. She could practically feel the emotion pouring from her sister and it wrapped her up, surrounded her with all the love and care Narcissa needed in that moment. She reveled in it. She wanted to drown in it.

Narcissa grasped at Andromeda’s robes, pulling her down on top of her. The wood paneling of the floor felt cool against her back, contrasting with the warmth of her sister against her chest. Her hands grasped Andromeda’s face as she devoured her mouth, nails pressing into her cheeks possessively as Narcissa sought to claim her in this moment. “Use _me,_ ” she gasped against her lips. “Take what you’ve always wanted of me, _I beg of you…_ ”

Andromeda’s pupils were black with lust. Narcissa was spread out beneath her, begging to be taken; it was a fantasy she had dreamed of for nearly all of her life. Still, would it make anything better between them; between _all_ of them? Probably not, yet after all these years it seemed Andromeda could no longer find it in her to care anymore. She tore at Narcissa’s clothing, prompting a gasp from the woman below her.

“It won’t make it better, you know,” Andromeda panted against her lips. Her hand slid up her thigh, grasping onto the flesh she had only ever hoped to dream of as she forcefully pulled her legs apart. The scent of Narcissa’s arousal intoxicated her. “The emptiness inside of you, it won’t ever be sated this way. No matter how much you take, you’ll never feel whole.”

Narcissa was beginning to learn that, but it made no difference in that moment. She took her sister’s hand in hers, forcing it to the apex between her thighs. Even through her knickers, Andromeda could tell she was dripping. A moan fell from her lips and Narcissa smiled. “Perhaps not,” she answered breathlessly. “But I could never imagine anything more satisfying than the feeling of you filling me, even if the belief of my completion would be nothing other than a lie.”

Andromeda’s hand slipped beneath her sister’s knickers, the warmth she found there consuming her whole.

“It’ll destroy us.”

“We’re already destroyed,” Narcissa breathed before pulling Andromeda to her, their lips connecting in an eruption of unprecedented passion that the blonde ached to feel. Her back arched as Andromeda’s fingers slid inside of her, the throaty moan that followed being devoured by her sister’s mouth. She grabbed for Andromeda, pressing herself so closely that she could feel the beat of her heart against her own. They would never beat the same, but still they complimented each other so well.

“Tell me you love me,” Narcissa begged, fingernails digging into the back of her sister’s neck. She cried out as Andromeda’s fingers twisted inside of her, her head flinging to the side as her eyes screwed tightly shut. She shuddered.

“No,” Andromeda whispered against her ear, her lips fluttering past the pale, exposed skin of the blonde’s neck. “That is one thing I will never allow you to take from me.” She bit down. Narcissa screamed, her hips forcing Andromeda to go deeper inside of her.

Perhaps that was her sister’s way of breaking her heart, because Narcissa was sure the reasons she was doing this with her was breaking Andromeda’s.

Narcissa wanted to feel loved. Andromeda wanted to _be_ loved. This way, neither of them got what they wanted. It was an appropriately cruel solution to an even crueler situation. Yet they both ate it up like it was the answer to everything they had ever wanted. 

Narcissa clawed at the ground as she cried out. Desperation, pain, need, lust, _love._ It all blurred together and consumed her entire being as she held on tightly to the one person who was, in that moment, making her feel them all. No, it was not the wholeness Narcissa sought, but it was doing a good job of it for now. The pit of her stomach burned with her oncoming orgasm and she screamed Andromeda’s name, her hand tangling in her hair as she began to believe that letting go might just cause her to fall clear through the earth. 

She didn’t care.

Andromeda milked the pleasure right from her very soul, filling the room with the sounds of Narcissa’s whimpering need as she began to convulse in her arms. As Andromeda held her close, allowing her to ride out the aftershocks of her ecstasy, she whispered in her ear, “I’ll save your son. I’ll take both of you away, far from the Dark Lord’s reach.”

Emotion welled up in Narcissa’s eyes. She had thought perhaps Andromeda did not care about that. How foolish she was to ever believe her sister could’ve had it in her to not care about her pain. “Is there such a place?” she asked, voice vulnerable and tiny.

“The Order will find one,” Andromeda promised. “I swear to you, Draco will be safe.”

Narcissa reached up, cupping her sister’s cheek possessively. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she responded meaningfully. “I’ll be yours every day, should you have me.” To save her son, that meant more to Narcissa than anything anyone could ever hope to do.

Andromeda shook her head. “I don’t want your body as payment, Cissa. You’re worth more than that. I’m just sorry you don’t think so.”

Narcissa pursed her lips. She felt so much, yet couldn’t describe it. So she tried with, “I love you,” even though she knew it was the wrong thing to say.

“No, you don’t,” Andromeda replied sadly, brushing a piece of fallen blonde hair behind her ear. “But you love your son, and I would be mad to not save the only relationship that has ever held true meaning in your life.”

Maybe that was it. _The only relationship that ever held true meaning._ Narcissa had been craving love, when all along she had had it. Maybe it wasn’t in the form she had always felt she needed, but it was there. 

But even knowing that, would that stop her from pursuing it in other ways? Probably not. Because if the Black sisters knew only one thing in life, it was how to crave the one thing that they would never have. 

Pain was in their blood.

**\- FIN -**


	14. Demand of Repossession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bellatrix/narcissa, “the scent of unrequited love”  
> Rating: e  
> Where: hexrpg  
> A/N: this is actually a couple years old, but i found it while looking through my hex folder. it was a contest entry.

Her hand is like a snake, the way it coils through her hair. Narcissa doesn’t move, but she finds herself trembling a bit when lips brush against the back of her neck, making her close her eyes and try to will herself to stop this insanity. It’s gone on too long; shredded her soul for too many years. But her sister’s hands demand possession of her most prized trophy again as she grasps her hair roughly, pulling her back a little and holding her firmly in place.

“Did you miss me?” The hiss of madness in her voice floats through Narcissa’s very core, chilling her blood. Such a loaded question. Bellatrix’s lips are pressed to her ear, her voice emitting dominance and desire from the very thought of taking back what she felt she owned. What she _did_ own.

“Every day,” Narcissa breathes, because it was the truth. Every day she missed the touch of her skin, her breath on her lips. But it wasn’t right. It killed her a little more; each passing affection they showed to one another that was less than pure. 

But it was more than she could stop. Each commanding word that fell from her sister’s lips, each look Bellatrix gave her; each look that made Narcissa feel desirable again... it was more than she could stop. Even Lucius couldn’t make her feel the things her own flesh and blood could. It was intoxicating; it swallowed her whole and spit her back out again. It consumed her completely; the need, the satisfaction, the sin, the fear, the scent of unrequited love that filled her senses and made her feel weak at the knees.

“Because you love me,” she taunts, a wicked smile adorning her features. Not a question, but a statement.

“Yes,” Narcissa whispers, wishing she could turn to look into her eyes, but knowing she’s to stay where she’s held. She loves her, but it does not make her such a fool to think that she should anger her in any way. Her sister was dangerous; the madness that Azkaban brought her made her have such a deranged, yet childish look at the world.

“ _In_ love, even. Wouldn’t you say?” Bellatrix continues to taunt her. She cackles a little, low in her ear. “Tsk, tsk, Cissy. Such a naughty girl. What would Mother say?” She bites her lower lip to stifle her glee at playing with her little sister in the only way she knew how to anymore. She pulls her around to face her suddenly before she steps forward, forcing Narcissa back up against the wall. Her breathing shallows as Bellatrix gets up in her space. “What do you think mother would say if she knew her perfect princess prefers to lie in sin?”

Narcissa doesn’t rise to the bait. She may be weak when it came to stopping this affair, but she isn’t one of Bellatrix’s victims, either. She narrows her eyes and tells her, “What do you think she’d say if she knew it was her eldest daughter that took advantage of her _perfect princess_ when she was too young to know any better?”

Bellatrix laughs; a cold, hollow sound. “I do love when you play, Cissy.” Her fingers run through her long blonde hair as she strokes her like she’s a prize worthy of a Queen. “Mmm…” she purrs. “You’ve grown prettier, you know.”

“Lucius tells me that every day.” It was a lie. Lucius barely acknowledges her anymore, but she wanted to ignite a passion deep in her sister. Oh, she loved when she demanded repossession.

Bellatrix’s eyes flash in anger at the mention of Narcissa’s husband and she withdraws her hand. “Don’t speak his name when you’re with me.”

“He’s my husband, Bella.”

“He’s a tool; a means to an end. _I_ am your eternity,” Bellatrix tells her, voice stern. Sometimes she sounds more like mother than she realizes. She commands a certain presence, a certain respect, just like she did.

“My eternity will be with someone who loves me as I love them,” Narcissa tells her quietly, honestly, sadly. That was the one thing that tore her apart more than anything else: Bellatrix’s inability to truly love. She only conquered everything around her, Narcissa included. That’s why she needed it to stop, more than the guilt from the dirty sin they committed constantly.

“Don’t dare presume how I do and do not feel, Narcissa,” Bellatrix tells her, voice dangerously calm. “Regardless, why you fill your…” she presses her fingertip to Narcissa’s temple hard and the blonde winces, “pretty head of yours with delusions of love and compassion, I’ll never know. Those things don’t exist. _All_ …” she starts slowly, running her fingertip down Narcissa’s cheek bone, “that matters…” she traces her lip with her finger and finishes, “is that I want you to be mine forever.”

“That isn’t enough.”

It was barely a whisper, but it was said. Finally. Her eyes were trained on the floor in front of her, too scared to see the reaction from her eldest sister. The silence seemed deafening.

“What are you saying?” Narcissa doesn’t answer. “Cissy!” she demands loudly, grasping her arm roughly and forcing her to look at her.

“I’m saying that being with you is destroying me!” Narcissa cries, finally. “Ow, Bella, you’re hurting me!” The grip on her arm, instead of slacking, tightens.

“You…” Bellatrix starts slowly, “are _mine._ ”

“Take your hand off of me!” Narcissa exclaims, wrenching her arm away from her. She stumbles away from her, towards the door. Bellatrix’s gaze is like ice. “I’m sorry,” Narcissa tells her, guilt and pain filling her voice. “Really, I am. I love you Bella, more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. But this?” There’s a pause, a silence that seems to slice the air. “This is wrong,” she finishes.

“Cissy!” Bellatrix calls out as Narcissa starts to walk away. “Narcissa, come back here!” she screams, the demand to repossess louder, needier. Desperate.

But Narcissa never looks back.

**\- FIN -**


	15. Sentiments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: bellatrix/narcissa, “i never knew you were a romantic”  
> Rating: e  
> Where: hexrpg  
> A/N: again, something old that i found in my hex folder.

Tears were something that came only when one was alone. To cry in front of another would surely show your weakness, diminish your pride, and lower your self-worth and the worth that others apply to you. It was a lesson learned young for Narcissa; instilled in her as a child from her overbearing mother who wanted nothing less than perfection from her girls. 

So when Narcissa broke down, she did it alone. She was huddled in her bathroom; the bottom of her dress balled up in her tight fists as she chokes back another wave of sorrow, feeling like her heart was being ripped from her chest. She could barely see through her stream of tears, could hardly hear anything other than the sounds of her own distress, so when she saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye, she nearly jumped a mile. She looked up to see she wasn’t alone.

Her sister Bellatrix stood in the threshold of the doorway, looking like she didn’t know what to do with the scene before her. It had been decades since either had seen the other cry. Her hand twitched slightly at her left; like she wanted to reach out and touch her but didn’t know how to go about it. It seemed like ages since they’ve had physical contact. Even when Bellatrix escaped from Azkaban, there were no tearful reunions; no hugs, nothing. It was reduced to a curt nod, a smile when no one else was looking. But that’s what they had been reduced to by their mother’s overbearing lessons that left more marks on each of their personalities than they’re proud of.

But the rules were broken, the weakness in her had been shown, and all she wanted was her sister back. She looked up at her, eyes puffy and worn from distress, and reached out with a hesitant hand. Bellatrix’s eyes flickered to the offering, then back up to note the pain on her sister’s face. In one swift motion, she closed the door behind her and came to Narcissa wordlessly.

The younger woman wasted no time in pulling her sister to her. Bellatrix knelt in front of her as Narcissa buried her face in her neck, letting the tears flow freely as she slumped to the ground to be closer to her warmth. She grasped at the tatters of her sister’s clothing, letting everything she had ever held inside of her release in cries of agony and fear. 

The picture of them both, huddled together on the floor, was such a flashback to their childhood that in some sick way it made Narcissa feel safer.

“Cissy.” Bellatrix’s voice was barely audible over her sister’s incessant crying. “You should be _proud._ ” Of course Bellatrix knew why she was crying. She knew her own sister well enough to know what would upset her to this length.

“He’s my only son!” Narcissa cried, hysterical. “I don’t understand—if he must punish Lucius he could have done it with me, why didn’t he do it with me?! I can’t—he _can’t_ …”

“Do not pretend you can dictate what you think the Dark Lord should and should not do,” Bellatrix interrupted, voice harsh. And it was that, _that right there_ , that upset Narcissa more. More than Draco being chosen for some mission that’s sure to get him killed, more than her whole life feeling like it’s crumbling apart. She wrenched away from her then, fist pounding on her sister’s shoulder.

“Stop!” she screamed. “Stop being a _Death Eater_. Be my sister. I need my sister, Bella! Can’t you see that I… I…” she dissolved in tears again, feeling the effort to be futile. She didn’t know if Bellatrix has it in her to be human any longer.

Bellatrix sat motionless for a moment, as if she was a child trying to decipher a complicated puzzle. She managed to draw to some kind of conclusion though, and in the most delicate motion Narcissa had ever seen her sister draw forth, she placed her hand beneath her chin and tipped it to look at her.

“He will not die, I… I promise you, Cissy. I’d further throw myself off a cliff than see you in anymore pain.” Narcissa looked at her in shock as Bellatrix seemed to struggle with finding any human emotion inside of her. She looked uncomfortable, like a trapped animal needing to escape. But she stayed, and she tried, for her. She took a breath and continued, “You’re my sister, my world. I would kill, I would _destroy_ whole civilizations rather than see you suffer.”

Then the eye contact was over and Bellatrix withdrew, looking like she felt the need to run and slaughter a muggle just to feel normal again.

But Narcissa wouldn’t let her. She grasped Bellatrix’s hand, making her look her in the eyes again. She gave her a small smile and joked, to try to make her feel at ease again, “I never knew you were a romantic.”

Bellatrix scoffed, but looked amused none the less. “Rodolphus would beg to differ, I’m sure. Regardless, if I ever heard such filth come from his mouth I’d remove his tongue and watch as he choked on it.”

Her sister, never one to deal with her problems the normal way.

“But you never really loved him… did you?” Narcissa asked softly, looking up at her. It was an arranged married and Bellatrix never showed much interest in him.

“No,” Bellatrix told her. She gave her a small smirk and revealed, “But that is why I would never allow such sentiments like that to pass his lips, but with you I allow it.”

Knowing that’s the closest declaration of love she’d ever get from Bellatrix she smiled and responded, “I love you too, Bella.” And she did, more than she probably should. But that emptiness inside of her only seemed to diminish when she was with Bellatrix, and all she’s ever wanted was to feel whole.

**\- FIN -**


	16. Prey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: you are to write about a day in the life of a harry potter character, but not just any character. you are going to have to write through the eyes of one of these famous creatures: hedwig, crookshanks, trevor, nagini, or mrs. norris! (bellatrix/narcissa & nagini/voldemort)  
> Rating: t  
> Where: hexrpg (won second place)

The Dark Lord’s pet twisted and slithered as she wrapped herself around the slender form of a woman, the movements fluid and precise and yet unnervingly unnatural. Her prey, a tight-lipped blonde, stiffened at the contact, eyes widening in fear at the unexpected intrusion as her gaze caught her mate’s in the far corner of the room. His lips parted, a demand to release his wife being exhaled with a small tremor, and the pet hissed in challenge before her teeth snapped dangerously close to the woman’s jugular.

“I’m not in the mood for _games_ tonight, Bella,” the prey told her captor, her voice firm and strong despite the fear in her eyes at being practically trapped in the other woman’s embrace. Although the pet’s affection for her sibling flushed her form from a deep orange to a radiant red, the blonde still feared her; her species’ flaws rendering her too blind to see the truth. The blonde’s pulse quickened, the blood pumping through her veins sending out vibrations as loud as any scream, and the intruder in the shadows of the room grew hungry.

They were not on the menu, however. Not tonight.

Nagini’s form, though frightening and large, slithered through the darkness of the room unnoticed. Three days it had been, and already she was growing restless. She wanted to hunt, she wanted to _feed;_ yet instead she was confined indoors, forced to watch Voldemort’s pet play with her food instead of eat it. It was maddeningly wasteful and although Nagini knew her request would be denied her should she ask, she wished to taste what the imitator of her kind could not bear to swallow whole.

The fair-haired prey was not one of them, after all; she was utterly expendable, and yet still she was allowed to live. Nagini could not fathom why. Even if the woman was nothing but a toy, shouldn’t she herself be allowed to play as well?

“You seem unhappy, dearest sister,” the pet breathed into her sibling’s ear, outright ignoring the man’s demand to free his wife. He wasn’t even regarded as being there at all, despite his brilliant hues that pulsed as loud and hot as his anger. The pet could not see it though, her vision so terribly limited despite her efforts to become that which she was not. “I would’ve thought you’d be pleased to have us as guests in your home.”

The blonde, statuesque and still, stared straight ahead of her as lithe fingers slid across the hollow of her throat. She dared not to move, for fear of suffocation should she provoke her sister’s wrath. “You know I have always welcomed you here, Bellatrix.”

To her credit, the pet was not entirely disillusioned and could sense the deception in the other woman’s words. “Such _lies…_ “ Her fingers closed around her sibling’s neck then and she squeezed, holding her prey against her chest and provoking a fearful shout from the man in the corner of the room. He tried to reach them but the Dark Lord’s pet would not be challenged and tightened her grip, stopping the mate’s approach mid-stride. 

“Ah, ah, Lucius; one more step and I’ll snap her neck like a twig. You wouldn’t want to be _responsible_ for such a tragedy… now, would you?”

The man fumed, his colors burning brighter than before. Nagini wondered if the prey could sense that her sister’s words were as drenched in lies as her own; though her airway was blocked and breathing slowed, the blonde’s heart rate did not pick up any more than it already had ever since she was first trapped within the witch’s threatening embrace.

“Run along,” the pet continued, looking at the man as though he were such an insignificant little creature; something not even worth concerning herself with. Her grip slackened and as the blonde struggled to inhale her next full breath, the raven-haired woman’s fingers began to softly caress the dip in her captive’s throat. Perhaps the blonde was not prey after all, but a pet herself; cared for, yet still regarded as something far beneath her Mistress. “This is a family matter which, despite your insistence as though that ring on your finger means _anything_ to me, you will never be a part of. Tell him, Cissy.”

The blonde swallowed, yet did not hesitate to oblige her owner’s demand. “I’ll be alright, Lucius,” she responded softly, sounding both assured and terribly apologetic. “Please just give us a moment.”

The man’s silhouette burned a deep red with rage, his blood rushing through his veins like fire as his heart pounded relentlessly within his chest. But he did not fight; did not stand up and reclaim ownership of his mate although all of his natural instincts seemed to be screaming at him too. Instead he relented to the demand and turned, striding out of the room with a hateful swear lingering on his lips. 

Nagini’s tongue flickered from out of her mouth, tasting the air. Weakness; the man stank of it. It was no wonder the Dark Lord contemplated feeding him to her once. Nagini was still displeased that he had changed his mind; after all, it had been so very long since she tasted human flesh.

Nagini debated following him out of the room, hoping to catch him saying or plotting something blasphemous so she could finally have a decent meal, yet halted her movements once she heard the blonde speak again. “I did not lie,” she said strongly. She remained unmoving however, her expression relatively impassive despite the abuse that was dealt her. “I have always welcomed you here, but this time you did not come alone. I know it upsets you, but you cannot have it both ways; I am either loyal to _him,_ or I am loyal to you. Make your choice.”

“I want you to be loyal to us _both,_ “ the pet hissed, invading her sibling’s sense of personal space as she demanded a third option that had not been offered to her. Nagini kept to the shadows as she silently slithered across the floor in order to get closer, intrigued by this conversation. Should one or both prove disloyalty, then perhaps she would eat well tonight.

“Well I can’t. Now _choose,_ Bella; less you wish for me to make the decision for you.”

The prey had adapted to her situation, causing her words to grow stronger. Although she was still trapped in a hold that could suffocate the life from her, she did not fear it any longer. Her heart beat was steady, her hue warm despite the fire that burned hotly around her. It was the Dark Lord’s pet whose breathing was now unsteady and erratic, the blood that pumped through her veins raging as she allowed her prey to have a power that should have never been allotted her. 

The blonde’s eyebrow arched. “Well?”

As Nagini tasted the air once more, she smelled a different kind of weakness as another tongue left parted lips, savoring the skin of the blonde’s neck. The woman flinched away from the touch as though it burned her, but it went either unnoticed or disregarded. “Me,” the pet finally answered, her tone low as she allowed her arms to slither around her sister’s waist, holding her tight to her form. It wasn’t threatening this time though, merely affectionate; almost bordering on protective. “You should be loyal to me, for it’s always been I who owned you, Narcissa. That will never change.”

Despite her obvious discomfort at the unorthodox level of affection her sibling showed her, the blonde’s lips upturned into a small triumphant smile. She believed she had won; had forced her captor to prioritize their relationship over the only person who truly mattered in this house, but in the end Nagini knew that the prey’s celebration would be short-lived. It might not be overt, but the sisters’ words were still a betrayal that could not be left unacknowledged.

Nagini could almost taste her next meal as she slithered out of the room unseen, following the long hallway to Voldemort’s quarters on the opposite end of the manor. An all too familiar sound in one of the rooms halted her movements though before she detoured pass the threshold, taking in the form of the blonde hatchling in his bedroom who was practically huddled in the center of his bed as he cried and shook. Out of all of them, he was certainly the one who deserved to be devoured the most; unable to stand on his own two feet, his weakness stank up the entire manor. He had failed once himself and yet still did not become dinner; Nagini briefly wondered why the blonde’s spawn was still kept around, when he had repeatedly proved himself to not be of any use. 

Her lack of a proper meal when she deserved one was becoming irritatingly repetitive, and Nagini hissed loudly as she opened her mouth, threatening the boy with her sharpened fangs as she briefly revealed herself from the shadows. The hatchling shouted in fear, practically springing to his feet atop the bed as he backed himself in the corner and whimpered pathetically. Nagini milked the reaction for a long moment, enjoying the way the boy nearly wet himself at just the mere sight of her before she finally turned, making her way out of the bedroom. 

At least the hatchling provided amusement, however brief it was. 

When Nagini entered the Dark Lord’s room, he sensed her presence. “Nagini…” he drawled from his place in the oversized armchair, the hint of a smile on his thin lips as he stared into the roaring fire in the corner of the room. “Come here, my sweet.”

The snake moved quickly, her large body making patterns across the floor as she sought to reach her friend. Twisting around the upholstery, Nagini climbed until she found herself in the Dark Lord’s lap, feeling a hand rest delicately atop her head in an affectionate gesture. “You are concerned,” Voldemort mentioned, able to sense her anxiousness. “Tell me what has happened.”

“Your pet’sssss pet,” Nagini hissed, her dark eyes taking in the form of the man beneath her as she coiled around his body. “Her loyalty is not to you. She speaksssss treason; proclaiming loyalty only to her keeper.”

Voldemort however, merely chuckled at this information. “Loyalty to one that I own is still loyalty to me, Nagini, however indirect.”

Nagini hissed loudly, not understanding how Voldemort could not find concern in the matter. Should his pet turn on him, those she owned would no doubt follow suit. “You allow thisssss?”

“Allowing Narcissa to live secures Lucius’ loyalty and provides Bella with entertainment,” Voldemort answered easily, his hand running down the length of Nagini’s body. His touch was nearly as cold as her own. “I understand your concern, my friend, but it would be unwise to rid ourselves of her yet.”

Nagini hissed again, although this time in blatant distaste as she slithered up the man’s arm, curling around his bicep to rest atop his shoulder. “You coddle that thing too much.” 

Voldemort looked amused by the accusation. “Bella?” he questioned, although he already knew. Nagini however, did not acknowledge that those beneath her had names, and therefore never addressed her by it. “Perhaps. I cannot deny that she amuses me, Nagini; adapting some of your habits in an attempt to gain my affection has been particularly entertaining, I must say. Still, perhaps you are right; perhaps my favoritism is a weakness, of sorts. My kind has always been fond of our little _pets,_ after all. It is in our nature to enjoy owning those who are beneath us.”

Nagini peered at her friend, noting the yellow and green hues of his form; a stark contrast to the others of his species, who always pulsed with vibrant reds and oranges. “You call them your kind, yet you become lessssss and lessssss like them every day.”

“Despite my evolutionary advances, I still retain parts of my original species, Nagini,” Voldemort explained patiently, his boney fingers sliding over the snake’s massive form. “But one day that will change; one day I will shed the skin of my old species and all the foolish affections they bare, and be born anew in a body more befitting to my greatness. And on that day, my sweet…”

Voldemort’s lip curled into a wicked smile as he looked down at his friend and told her passionately, “On _that_ day, we will open our massive jaws and devour them all.”

Nagini snapped her teeth in anticipation as Voldemort laughed, the sound echoing through the near-empty room before the snake slithered loosely around the man’s neck, bumping her head against his chin affectionately. It might be months, it might be years, but Nagini knew that eventually that day would finally be upon them, and together her and her future bond-mate would finally ravage the world in the forms they were always meant to.

She just hoped that that day would come sooner rather than later, as she was growing restless, impatient, and so very, _very_ hungry…

**\- FIN -**


End file.
